


Learning to Hope

by Torpor



Category: Fire Emblem: If
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, F/M, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Wartime Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-01 16:44:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 39,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4027321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torpor/pseuds/Torpor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As they sit on the precipice of war with her home country, Kamui and the others must rely on their love for one another to make it through the trials ahead. Their own desires and a strange girl's wish for a brighter, happier future spur them to revolt against all that they've known as they struggle to undo the hatred between Nohr and Hoshido.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: A Day in the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, dear readers. Thank you for reading my work as we wait with baited breath for the game and its true story to come out. It is my hope that you enjoy what I have come up with thus far and will continue on with me as I move forward.

The sound of the wagon's wheels on the path lulled her into a light doze as the sun warmed the canopy, creating a cozy nest despite the autumn morning chill. Her father was speaking softly in the front, chuckling at something their driver had said.

He'd never allowed any of them to go with him on trips like these, but she in all her four year old bossiness had demanded it. They had left two weeks ago and would hopefully be arriving in Nohr's capital for diplomatic talks before that evening.

"We're about to cross the border into Nohr, little one." She perked up and looked out from behind the canvas. There wasn't much difference at first, but the road became rockier after a fashion. She looked up at the sky and watched as it seemed to darken, clouds hanging thickly above them.

"Do you think it will rain, Papa?" Her father hummed absently before nodding.

"Yes, it may. It does feel a bit humid here, doesn't it?" Humid didn't begin to describe the way the air felt that day. It was like a wet blanket had been thrown over their heads, intent on smothering them. It stood in stark contrast with Hoshido and its sunny skies and breezy steppes. Nohr felt like drowning.

Kamui breathed in the smell of rain and ozone, looking across the field as the wagon started up the winding mountain path. It was beautiful in its own way, but wilder and less forgiving than her homeland. She wondered what the people would be like.

"The King and Queen of Nohr have children around your age, pup. I'm sure they'll play with you while I speak with their parents." She'd never been one to shy away from new people, but she found herself feeling nervous.

"What if they don't like me?" Her father laughed, taken aback by her question.

"How could they not? Just be yourself, pup." The first droplets of rain began to patter on the oiled canvas roof and Kamui let her eyes slide shut. Some time later, warm hands shook her awake.

"We've arrived, Kamui. _It's time for you to wake up._ " She jolted awake, her heart aching in her chest. It had been so long since she'd heard her father's voice, and to suddenly hear it again nearly brought tears to her eyes.

She hadn't seen her father since that fateful night, but she would never forget him. How could she? No one could forget such a big man, with his boisterous laughter and lopsided grin. She remembered him as if they'd never been torn from each other, and no doubt she always would. Her kind didn't forget easily.

She rubbed her eyes and tried to put it out of her mind. She couldn't face the others if she'd been crying, they'd never let it rest. A rapid knocking on her door surprised her, but she immediately knew who it was.

"Sis! It's time to get up!" Kamui stretched before crawling out from under her covers, making her way over to the door. As it swung open, she found herself with an armful of cheerful, blonde princess.

"Happy birthday, Sis!" Elise chirpped. Kamui squeezed the girl in her arms, willing away the feelings of loss in her heart. She longed for her father's warm embrace and she missed her elder brother so much she felt ill, but she wouldn't trade the feeling of embracing Elise for the world.

"Hurry up and get dressed! We had them prepare your favorite breakfast!" Kamui laughed as she pried the thirteen year old girl from her waist and stripped off her nightgown, slipping on a pair of bloomers.

"Has Marx returned from Duke Hamwell's lands yet?" She asked as she stepped into her petticoat.

"Not yet. He should be back today, though. He never goes back on a promise, you know?" This was true. Marx had never made a promise he couldn't keep, and in all sixteen years of knowing him, he'd never missed her birthday.

"Help me button the back of this dress, please."

Kamui allowed Elise to pull her along, and they all but ran down the hallway. Kamui smiled as she caught Joker's eye, and he gave her a small wobble of his lips in return. She'd get him to smile in earnest one day. Elise ignored all that was between them and food, talking a mile a minute about breakfast and the plans for the day, and how nice it was to see her in a dress.

"You're not wearing shoes, but everyone gave up on that a long time ago! Today's your birthday anyway, no one can make you do anything today." As they neared the top of the stairs, voices from below made Elise stop in her tracks, nearly toppling them both. "See? I **told** you he'd be back!"

Sure enough, a familiar figure came into view at the bottom of the stairs, speaking quietly with Leon, handing his jacket off to a servant. He looked exhausted, but his expression lifted when he saw them.

" _Brother_!" Elise bounded down the stairs and launched herself into his waiting arms, giggling as he kissed the top of her head. As she embraced him, she checked the pockets of his waistcoat for the sweets he'd no doubt hidden there. He chuckled and handed her a small box wrapped in plain paper.

"You spoil her." Leon said, not bothering to hide his smile. Kamui made her way down the stairs, her excitement building with each step. She beamed as he met her at the bottom with open arms.

"I'm so glad you're back." She held him tightly, her cheek pressed against his chest. She couldn't begin to be sad when she was in his arms.

"I promised, didn't I? I swear, I've only been gone three days, yet you act as though you haven't seen me in years." He laughed softly and held her at arm's length, an earnest smile on his lips.

"That's three days too long. We never know what to do with ourselves without you here to harass. Besides, what would I do without my favorite plaything?" He snorted, rolling his amber eyes at the stucco ceiling.

"Spar with Camilla and her scaly bag of bones, perhaps?" She shook her head, hugging his arm as they made their way towards the dining hall.

"Alba is afraid of me. We've never been able to actually get any sparring done when that brute is there. Besides. I have more fun knocking you around." He glanced down at her, a smirk crossing his face.

"Leave your dragon stone behind next time, and we'll see who knocks who around, Little Dove." Camilla's bright voice cut in as they opened the door to the dining hall.

"Happy birthday, my darling!" She said as she pulled Kamui in for a hug, brushing her bangs away from her forehead. "Well, twenty years old at last. Do you feel any different?" Kamui snorted and shook her head.

"Hardly. Should I?" She asked as Marx pulled out her seat for her. Camilla leaned back against her chair, shrugging.

"Perhaps not. Did you sleep well?" Kamui's thoughts drifted to her dream momentarily before she put it aside. She wouldn't trouble them with that after all these years.

"I did." Joker entered the room, serving her breakfast first. He leaned around her chair, gloved hands dainty on the porcelain plate. "Thank you." He nodded and served the rest of her family without a word. As the door closed, Leon leaned slightly forward.

"Have you given any thought to what you'd like to do today, Sister?" He asked. She stretched her arms over her head, groaning.

"Not really. I'm happy as long as I get to be with all of you." Leon scoffed, trying to hide his smile as by shoveling fresh fruit into his mouth. Elise bounced excitedly next to her.

"We could go to the river for a picnic! It's a pretty day out, so why not spend it outside?" Kamui glanced around the table, waiting to see if the others had any other ideas before smiling at the girl beside her.

"That sounds wonderful. Let's do that." She wouldn't deny a chance to climb out of the dark pit for a day. A sharp knock on the door silenced their cheerful conversation and one of the King's aides poked his head through the door, his face grim.

"I apologize for the intrusion, but the King demands your presence, Your Highness. He wishes for your report on the state of affairs in Lord Hamwell's duchy. He's... not in the mood to wait." Marx frowned for a moment before nodding.

"Very well. I'll be along in a moment. Excuse me." He stood and straightened his cravat before patting Kamui gently on the hand. "I'll be back shortly."

As Marx left them, Camilla sighed, the sound heavy with annoyance.

"Father can never give him a moment to rest. He didn't even get to finish his meal." Kamui looked at the plate at her right and wondered if he'd gotten to eat earlier that morning.

The Duke's lands were a day and a half's hard ride from the capital, and Marx hadn't bothered with a carriage, so there was no question he was tired. As if hearing her thoughts, Elise squeezed her hand.

"Don't worry so much about Marx. He won't let Father keep him long."  
***

Kamui moved quickly up the spiraling stairs, out into the garden. It was one of the only places where the sun shone, near the top of the pit. It was the only place in the palace she truly found to be beautiful.

She hadn't dreamed about her father or home in a long time, and it was strange to suddenly think about it. She glanced up to watch a mocking bird flitting from branch to branch above her. How were her older brother and sister? What about her little brother? Had her mother remarried? What did she name the baby? Was it a girl or a boy?

"Are you alright, Kam? You seem so upset today." Kamui looked over her shoulder as Camilla picked her way across the lawn to sit beside her.

"I had a dream before Elise woke me for breakfast." Camilla inclined her head silently, waiting for her to continue. "I dreamed of my father. Do you remember when we met?" Camilla smiled fondly and put her arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

"How could I forget? You were such a _rambunctious_ child. You punched Earl Wendell's son when he tried to pull your skirt over your head. Your father looked _horrified_ , but I thought Marx and I would wet ourselves from laughing." Kamui smiled and allowed her head to rest on the other woman's shoulder.

"Leon had only just learned to walk and followed you and Marx around like a duckling. And Marx was so shy. You had a hard time just getting him to speak to me. I thought he hated me!" Camilla chuckled and fell backwards onto the lawn, pulling Kamui with her.

"I'm not sure anyone could hate you, Darling. You'd have to do something terrible for me to even be angry. But. That's not all there was to that dream, I'm sure. You miss your father terribly, don't you?" Kamui nodded, pulling herself closer to her sister. "It's okay to say so. We don't blame you, or think less of you."

Kamui had always wondered what her adopted siblings had been told, how much they knew about how she came to stay with them, as it was clear they didn't know the truth. She had no doubt that if she did, Camilla herself would tear the palace down brick by brick. She smiled as her sister squeezed her tighter. It was best that they didn't, at least for now.

"Oh, there you are. I was looking for the both of you." Kamui propped herself up enough to see Leon striding towards them, a book tucked under his arm. "Father still has Marx detained. From what I heard on my way from the library, they seem to be having a disagreement. I can't tell what about." Camilla snorted derisively, shielding her eyes against the sun.

"I'm sure it's over Marx's marital status again. You know how father loves to harp on that." Leon hummed in thought as he took a seat next to Kamui, crossing his legs at the ankles.

"No, I don't think so. Marx is usually more passive on that topic. He was really letting father have it." Kamui sat up, her heart squeezing in worry. The King didn't handle insolence well.

"Well, that is unusual. Marx rarely goes against father." Leon shrugged dismissively, opening his book.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure he'll tell us later. Let's not fret just yet." The three of them lapsed into a thoughtful silence, the late morning sun warming them through their clothes.

Kamui closed her eyes against the light and allowed herself to doze, her siblings warm, solid comforts beside her in the grass. She remembered how they had daydreamed together under this very tree, talking about everything and nothing. She and Camilla would lie in the grass and whisper secrets. It was here that she'd cried in Marx's lap when a nobleman's son had called her a monster, and here that Camilla beat the boy to a pulp. She and Leon had taught Elise how to read here, and Marx had given them all rides on his back. She'd made many happy memories tucked away in this part of the garden, in spite of it all.

Kamui sighed and rolled onto her side, her eyes now shielded by Leon's shadow. He'd grown so tall in such a short time, quickly overtaking her. She cracked an eye open and looked at him, smiling when he glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

"What?" She shook her head and reached for his hand. He hid his expression behind his book, but she knew he was grinning.

"Look at you, all grown up. My sweet little genius is becoming a man!" He grunted and said nothing, trying to free his hand. Kamui glanced back at Camilla, smirking. Camilla smiled just as cheekily and sat up.

"Oh come now, little brother! Don't be so cold, you'll break our hearts." He looked at them warily, sensing danger. "I swear, he never laughs anymore, does he? It must be the rigours of being seventeen. You remember them, don't you? How broody it makes you?" Kamui nodded, and Leon closed his book, shifting uncomfortably.

"I suppose we'll just have to help him, won't we?" Kamui asked. Leon tensed and leaned away, his tawny eyes looking for the best escape route.

"Don't you two **dare** \--" It was too late. They were upon him like wolves on an injured fawn and the three of them fell onto the lawn, their fingers vicious in their assault on his ribs and tummy. He squirmed and whined, laughing helplessly as they continued their attack. He shrieked indignantly as Kamui moved to the backs of his knees, where she knew he was most ticklish. " **STOP! GODS, JUST STOP! PLEASE!** " Camilla redoubled her efforts, laughing as he swatted at her hands desperately.

"I don't know... you're laughing. You must be enjoying yourself." He kicked and thrashed in a futile effort to free himself from his torture.

" **NO**! You're--insane! S-Stop it!" He begged through peals of laughter. "Brother! H-help me!" They stopped for a moment, and looked over their shoulders to see Marx watching passively, his eyes unreadable. Leon lay panting and flinching away in the grass, still giggling. Marx shrugged, his lips twitching up into a small smile before walking away. " **TRAITOR**!"

Kamui and Camilla looked at each other and shrugged, sitting down once more on either side of their younger brother. He squeezed his eyes shut, and curled in on himself in hopes that if he made himself smaller, they'd leave him be. Kamui chuckled and brushed his bangs away from his eyes.

"It's over, Leon. We aren't that cruel." She said, still stroking his hair. He grunted and looked up at her, a pout on his face. "Now, now. We just wanted to see you smile and laugh again. It feels like it's been ages." He grabbed her hand and clasped it in his, averting his eyes.

"You could have just told me a joke." Camilla laughed and leaned over him, kissing his cheek dramatically.

"Nonsense! You'd have just hidden behind that book and pretended you didn't think we were funny. You act like you don't love us these days." He snorted and sat up, throwing one arm over each of their shoulders, pulling them in for a hug.

"Don't be daft. You know I love you both to bits. I shouldn't have to say it all the time for you to know it." Marx rejoined them and plopped unceremoniously in the grass in front of them.

"No, but you could stand to say it a little more." He said dryly. Leon rolled his eyes skyward, sighing heavily.

"Oh, that's rich coming from you. You haven't said it in recent memory." Marx shrugged.

"I prefer actions over words. You just stand there looking glum. All that I do for this family, and my baby brother won't even tell me he cares. It wounds me." Marx covered his heart with his hand for dramatic effect.

"Gods, not you too. Fine. I love you, Brother. I would move mountains and cross oceans if only you asked." Marx chuckled fondly and reached out to ruffle Leon's hair.

"Now was that so hard?" Leon grumbled and straightened out his hair and clothes, a grudging smile still plastered on his face. Marx flopped down onto his back with a groan, his arms crossed over his eyes.

"You're going to get dirty." Camilla said. He simply grunted and continued to lay there. "Your shirt is white. You're going to get grass stains." He said nothing in return, simply glancing at her from under his arms. "Who are you, and what have you done with my big brother?" Marx sighed and propped himself up on his elbows, his tiredness finally showing through his careful composure.

"I don't much care at the moment. I... need to speak with all of you, while Ellie is still at her lessons." They leaned forward, all silliness forgotten. "Father wishes to hold a salon in a week's time. We are all expected to attend and mingle with the guests, but his real intentions are to discuss a campaign against Hoshido with his peers."

Kamui felt as if cold water had been dumped over her head. The king sought war on her homeland. Murdering her father and taking her as a captive wasn't enough? Now he needed to destroy the place that held her earliest memories?

"To what end?" Leon asked, his disgust with the notion quite clear. Camilla squeezed Kamui's hand, her full lips pulled back in a sneer.

"When has he ever made an excuse for war? Father has only delusions of grandeur and glory. Unfortunately, we don't have much power to stop him." She asked, bitterness souring her lilting voice.

"He claims they... have _something_ of ours? What that could be, I have no idea." Marx said, shaking his head in confusion. Kamui scoffed and focused on her the warmth of Camilla's hand. She needed her sister's firm grip to keep her from flying into the palace in a rage.

"What could they possibly have that would justify war? If they are not enemies, but simply neighbors, then why can't father just negotiate for its return?" She muttered. Marx worried his bottom lip a moment before continuing.

"I can't say. He didn't tell me." Leon narrowed his eyes and looked his brother over critically.

"Is that what you two were arguing about?" He asked. Marx nodded silently. "He refused to share any details other than that?"

"For now. He told me after I finished my report. That landslide did a lot of damage. I'm beginning to wonder if Father isn't more interested in the land itself, rather than what ever bauble they may have." Leon hummed in thought before nodding.

"Yes, that sounds far more likely. I think whatever he told you was more of an excuse. He wishes to simply expand our kingdom and exploit new land without thinking of solutions for the problems men like him have caused." Leon sneered. Marx looked ready to reply, but Elise's chipper voice ended their conversation.

"Oh, Brother! You're done, finally. What'd Father want?" Marx smiled as best he could and held out his arms as Elise plopped into his lap.

"Oh, not much. He wanted to hear about news from Duke Hamwell's lands. How were your lessons?" Elise grimaced and crossed her arms, pouting.

" **Boring**. I'm so _tired_ of history. All they talk about is war. Aren't there any happy things for me to learn about? Even the people themselves are depressing. This Prince married this noblewoman for the sake of bloodlines and alliances. This Princess married this Prince for this reason or another. Doesn't anyone fall in love anymore?" They stayed silent for a moment, dreading the answer. Elise had to know that she had suitors backed all the way out to the border, and it was only them standing in the way. Her father would marry her off in a heartbeat. Marx chuckled and hugged the girl tightly, kissing the top of her head.

"Of course they do, Ellie. Even arranged marriages can lead to love. Mother and Father no doubt loved each other." Elise looked up at her brother, understanding in her violet eyes.

"You won't have to marry a stranger will you? You'll get to choose who you end up with, won't you Brother? I don't want you to be unhappy." Marx's smile faltered and Kamui felt her heart ache in her chest.

"Of course not." He was lying, and none of them had the energy to say so. Elise was a smart girl, and was quickly becoming a woman. She wasn't fooled, and they knew it. Camilla cleared her throat.

"Well, that's enough of that! We have a picnic to get to. Marx, Leon? Will the two of you ready our horses? Elise and I will see about our lunch. Kamui, feel free to do whatever you wish. It is your birthday, after all."  
***

Rather than sit alone with her thoughts, Kamui chose to go with the men, preferring the open air of the yard to the dim kitchens. It was a lovely day out, unusual for this time of year, and she'd missed Marx terribly the three days he'd been gone. She picked her way across the soft lawn and into the cool shade of the palace, listening to the sound of boots in the mostly empty hallway.

"I'm sorry to have spoken about such unpleasant matters on your birthday, Kamui. I hope it hasn't ruined the entire day for you." She chuckled and came up between them, taking one of their hands in each of hers.

"Of course not. You'd have to try a lot harder than that." She marvelled at the difference between their hands. Leon's were now larger than hers, but his fingers were slim and smooth, like a scholar's should be. Marx's were nearly twice the size of her own, and rough with callouses from years of swordsmanship. It always amazed her how a man so large could be so gentle.

"I don't understand how you can stroll about with bare feet, Sister. Don't the stones hurt your feet?" Leon asked suddenly, changing the subject.

"Not anymore. Perhaps when I was a very small child, but they've since toughened up." He twisted his lips into a strange kind of half smile, or perhaps it was a grimace.

"Why do you hate shoes so much, anyway? Marx and I have tried to get you to wear them for years, but you simply refuse. I've never understood." She laughed and squeezed his hand.

"I hate them because they keep me from feeling the ground. They also pinch and make my feet blister. I honestly don't see how you all stand it." Marx chuckled, shaking his head.

"Leave it alone, Leon. We've tried for sixteen years and failed every time. She won't wear them for love or money." Leon grumbled, but she knew he meant no offense. Her refusal to wear shoes had been trying when they were younger and she was aware that they'd all gotten more than a few earfuls when the Queen had been alive. Camilla had always ignored it, and told her to do what made her happy.

She'd had all kinds of excuses over the years, but in the end, the truth was simply that she wished to reject Garon and his control over her. If he said to go right, she'd veer left whenever she could, and though he hated her bare feet, he ignored them in favor of having her power on his side. It made her feel as though she had some autonomy in spite of her situation.

She smiled at the stable hands as they scurried about, and let go of the hands she'd been clasping. She almost wanted to ask if she could simply share a mount with one of them. She'd never been one for riding, and transforming was out of the question. It wasn't allowed outside of training or battle.

"Kamui? Are you alright? You've been quiet today." Leon asked as he heaved a saddle onto his mount's back. She nodded and reached out to stroke his mare's neck. Juno snorted good naturedly and flicked her ears to catch the sounds around her. A small laugh and a playful whinny caught their attention and Kamui giggled as Marx gave his destrier's muzzle a gentle push.

"Caesar, you can't go. You need to rest." The horse pushed against the wooden gate and stretched out his neck, no doubt expecting a treat. "I'm sorry, but you can't go. Get back, you brute." The horse snorted and pawed at the packed earth and straw beneath his feet, hanging his head.

"Oh, Brother. You've hurt his feelings, look." Camilla said as she and Elise rejoined them. Leon led Juno out into the yard and Kamui took the basket and blanket from her sisters so that they could ready their own mounts.

"It's been some time since you've ridden a _proper_ animal, Sister. Would you rather I saddled one for you?" Leon called out, his tone teasing. Camilla scoffed and led a dapple gray mare out of her stall.

"I don't need any help with your flea bitten nags, thank you." She muttered. Elise giggled and Kamui made her way outside with Leon, not wanting to be in the way. Her younger brother eyed her suspiciously, clearly still worrying about her. Marx joined them moments later, leading her palomino gelding behind him. She took Arlo's reigns and sighed, gathering her skirts before climbing up into the saddle, taking care to tuck her skirt beneath her, earning an amused look from the men.

Arlo had been hers since she'd first learned to ride. He was a large, heavily muscled palfrey with a smooth gait and friendly disposition. She scratched his ears and gripped the reins tightly, ready to get this over with quickly. Marx smiled at her from his own horse, and she had to try not to laugh. He looked every bit a prince from a fairy tale, handsome and fair on a white stallion. Ridiculous.

Her sisters joined them moments later and together, they began the ride up the spiraling path and out the back gate. Once out of the city, walls gave way to rocky hills and windswept fields. Camilla rode up beside her and smiled contentedly. There was no need for words, they both understood that moments like these were what made things bearable. The wind tousled their hair and the sun was warm and buttery, bouncing off of the lake in the distance.

Elise was chattering at Leon in the background, but Kamui was too caught up in the moment to really listen. She could hear her voice, and then hear him answer. Camilla would laugh, Marx would chuckle, then she'd start to chatter again. It was a gentle ebb and flow that she'd gotten used to over the years.

She loved them all so much, and never wanted to lose them, but also longed to add in what she lacked. Perhaps when Marx became king, she could become an ambassador to Hoshido and rejoin her family at last. She could have the best of both worlds. Yes. That was her wish, and her greatest goal. Perhaps something good could come of the King's desire for war.

"We're _heeeere_!" Elise cheered, dismounting quickly, leaving Leon to gather her horse's reins. The grass was high, nearly reaching the girl's thighs. The rest of them followed and dressed the horses down for their time here. They took the chance to begin grazing on fresh grass, snorting and prancing about happily.

Camilla found a nice, flat spot in the shade of an oak tree and spread out the large quilt on the grass and placed the basket in the center. Marx wasted no time yanking off his cravat, unbuttoning the first few buttons on his shirt, and flopping down onto his back, stretching like a contented cat.

"Are you going to take a nap before lunch, dear brother?" Camilla asked, gathering her skirt as she sat down. He hummed sleepily and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. Kamui giggled and sat down next to him, removing his circlet.

"He's earned a nap, I should think. He's been up for hours already." She said, brushing a stray curl away from his face. She ignored Camilla's grin and instead watched Elise play by the river side, with Leon nearby to keep watch. She continued to toy with the soft curls under her fingers and soon noticed that Marx's breathing had turned deep and even.

"Look at that. You've put him to sleep." Camilla teased, her voice low to avoid waking him.

"I've done no such thing. He did it himself." She shot back, trying to keep the defensiveness out of her voice. Her sister smiled fondly and opened the basket, pulling a jug of water and two large earthenware cups from it.

"He's only ever that relaxed when he's around you. You've always been good for him, you know? He's so quiet without you around." Kamui shrugged.

"I've never thought I was all that special, to be honest. He just needs someone to listen." Camilla handed her a cup and gave her a soft smile.

"Yes, I suppose that's true. Before you came along, he only had me. Other children were either too intimidated to be friends with the Crown Prince, or they envied his privilege. Nohr's nobility are a jealous, cut throat bunch." Her sister fanned herself with her free hand.

"By the gods, don't I know it? They hate us dearly, but they also see us as pieces of meat to be bought and sold. It's only a matter of time before Elise has to sit at awkward luncheons with a stranger like the rest of us." Camilla groaned.

"Don't remind me, Kam. If we're lucky, we can put it off for a few more years."

"Maybe. We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?" She looked up again to see Elise running towards them, smiling. The girl looked at her sleeping brother and giggled quietly, sitting down beside him to press a kiss to his cheek.

"He looks so peaceful. Do you think he ever gets enough sleep at night?" She asked. Leon sat down next to Camilla, grunting heavily.

"I doubt it. Father does run him ragged this time of year. Spring is always busy." He said. It was true. Spring was the time of salons, balls and other social gatherings. Marx was always running to and from these sorts of functions during the early months to ensure continued support from the noble houses. He'd speak with the lords about matters of state while being ogled coyly by their daughters and wives from behind lace fans.

He'd return to no fewer than twenty requests for tea or sometimes, less appropriate activities waiting on his desk, which usually ended up as kindling for the kitchen's wood burning stoves. Kamui herself had only gone to a handful of these gatherings with him, but it was enough to see just how uncomfortable it made him. He grunted in his sleep and curled in on himself, his brow crumpling. He fretted even in his dreams, it seemed.

Silence stretched between the four of them as they looked down the hill, over the grass and river. This was a rare sight in this land. Nohr should have been beautiful, but instead it was a rocky wasteland ravaged by drought and terrible storms that caused landslides, like the most recent one. They were inheriting problems from many generations before them, and they often feared that the damage to the land itself ran too deep. People were starving, but the only thing the other nobility ever seemed worried with was long lost glory and who was bedding who.

The older she got, and the longer she spent in Nohr, the more she found herself wanting to take her family and live elsewhere. They'd never do it, of course. Nohr was their home, and it was their responsibility to set things right. It would take time, and they'd probably all die seeing it unfinished, but they had to try for the good of everyone. Kamui smoothed the crease between Marx's brows and watched as the knot relaxed, his face becoming placid once more. His burden had always been a heavy one, but Garon's desire for war would only make things harder.

' _What will you do, Marx_?' She wondered. He always did what he thought would ultimately be best for Nohr and its people, but it often caused him and the rest of them no small amount of distress.

"You should probably wake him. He wouldn't want to sleep the whole day away, after all." Leon said, pouring Elise a cup of water.

"Now, now. Let's let him rest for a while longer. He's had a long past few days, and we know he rode through the night to make it home." Camilla said as she stood. "Elise, would you like to wade in the water? I'll teach you how to skip stones." Elise hopped up immediately, downing what was left of her water. Leon sighed and made to follow them, glancing over his shoulder as he started down the hill.

"Are you coming?" Kamui shook her head. He shrugged and made his way after his sisters, leaving her alone. She hoped they didn't think she was upset or angry with any of them. She lay down next to Marx and rolled to face him, taking one of his hands in hers.

"What are we going to do?" She whispered, searching his sleeping face for answers. None were given, and she didn't expect them, but she trusted him. For now, that was all they had.


	2. Uncertainty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Kamui and the others attempt to settle back into a routine, they are interrupted by guests and once again pulled apart by Garon's cruelty.

Kamui sighed as she swept her sweat soaked bangs from her forehead; her sword feeling heavy in her tired hand. Marx stood opposite her, his cheeks flushed with exertion, his chest rising and falling rapidly. These early morning sparring matches had been a habit since she was old enough to lift a sword, and Marx had insisted on them continuing. 

"You've improved greatly, Little Dove. I'm proud of you." He panted, nodding at her. She groaned and sheathed her trainer. She'd be feeling this session in the morning; he'd gone all out.

"I must have... I know there was a time you'd have had me in the dirt immediately." He smiled and ambled towards her, his gait uncharacteristically stiff. "Are you hurt? I've noticed you've been favoring your left leg." Marx waved his hand dismissively, shaking his head.

"No, I'm fine. I'm just a little sore. I've done a lot of travel on horseback of late, as I'm sure you remember." 

"Ah. Of course." She said dryly. "You should have taken the day to rest." He shook his head as they placed their trainers on the rack. 

"I can't rest. There's no time." He said, giving her a gentle nudge towards the castle. She sighed and fell into step beside him.

"I wonder what we're having for breakfast today." She pondered, her stomach grumbling in response.

"I don't know... but I hope there's plenty of it." She giggled and nudged him gently with her elbow. Marx's ability to stow away food was well known among the castle staff. He was a tall, powerfully built specimen, and as such; he ate like a horse.

"You know there will be."  
***  
They parted ways once they reached her bedroom door. She wrinkled her nose as she ran a hand through her hair. She was sweating like a plow boy and probably smelled like one, too. As the door closed behind her, she heard a commotion from her personal bath.

"Felicia?" The maid's squeal and a clattering sound from behind the closed door confirmed her suspicions. Kamui shook her head and began to strip off her soiled training gear, peeling the layers of padding and hardened leather away.

"Lady Kamui! I drew your bath! I--" She yelped as she tripped over the rug, and Kamui rushed to catch her. Felicia giggled awkwardly, bracing herself against Kamui's shoulders. "Sorry." 

"It's fine. I'm just glad I was here to catch you. That would have hurt." She said with a laugh, patting the maid's head affectionately. Felicia stooped to pick up the discarded gear as Kamui opened her wardrobe.

"I already put out something for you to wear. It's the lavender dress Princess Camilla got you for your birthday. I thought it'd be nice to let her see you wear it." Kamui glanced at the bed and nodded. It was a pretty dress, made of airy muslin and fine lace, with trimmings of violet silk. Camilla had always had an eye for fine tailoring. 

"Thank you. Will you help me wash my hair, please?" Felicia nodded and together, they made their way to the bath. The steam rising from the water was most inviting and Kamui sank into it gratefully upon divesting herself of her dirty clothes. She sighed and waited patiently for Felicia to get comfortable on her stool behind her.

"Have I ever told you that you have pretty skin, Lady Kamui?" The young maid asked. Kamui glanced over her shoulder, her eyebrows arched skeptically.

"Not to my knowledge. Thank you, though." Felicia beamed at her, as if pleased her compliment was well received. Felicia hummed quietly as she gently poured water over her mistress' head. Kamui sighed happily as her fingers began to work soap into her hair, and the smell of lavender and rosemary filled the room.

"Did you enjoy your morning spar, My Lady?" Kamui nodded silently, too relaxed to speak. While she wasn't a fan of getting up at the crack of dawn like Marx, she did like how she felt afterward. Their morning routine had become something she looked forward to, as it was one of the only times she got to see Marx so unabashedly open, all his intensity on display. She sputtered as Felicia rinsed her hair. "Oh gods, I'm sorry!" Kamui laughed and wiped away water and suds from her eyes.

"Trying to drown me, I see." 

"O-of course not! Ooooohhhh... I'm useless at these things. Should I go get Flora?" Kamui shook her head and dunked her head under the water, rinsing away the rest of the soap.

"No, you're doing fine. I promise, it was just a jape." She said, patting the maid's arm reassuringly. Felicia relaxed and smiled hopefully, picking up the bottle of lavender oil, slathering it on her hair and working it in.

"Shall I wash your back?" Kamui nodded and sat up to allow the other woman to scrub her back. Felicia moved carefully this time. It was a well known fact that she could destroy just about anything by accident, regardless of how "indestructible" it was thought to be. She was certainly no exception.  
She stood and left Kamui to finish up as a knock fell on her door. As Kamui scrubbed herself clean, she listened to Felicia speaking with Flora in the next room. She could just barely make out what they said, but it made her groan. They were having guests that afternoon for a luncheon, and they'd all be forced to smile and pretend to care as young lordlings and pretentious noble girls regaled them with tales of hunts or whatnot.  
The door to the bath opened as she stood to step out of the tub and Flora immediately handed her a towel for both body and hair. Flora, unlike Felicia was a quiet and efficient girl, but was far less talkative and cheerful. 

"My lady, we still have some time before breakfast. We must get you ready for today's... festivities. Felicia has picked out a most suitable outfit, but we shall have to do something about your hair. If you will allow me, I can come up with something flattering. I shall wait by the vanity. Come sit down once you are ready." Kamui nodded and sighed as the girl left her. There was nothing for it, she'd simply have to play the coquettish girl today. She wrapped her hair in one towel while patting herself dry with the other before slathering on a liberal amount of lotion. She donned her robe and joined the other women in her bedchamber, seating herself before the vanity.

"Do we know when the guests are to arrive, Flora?" She asked as she inspected her face in the mirror. 

"Yes. They should be here by lunch. I'm told they'll stay for supper as well." Kamui groaned, rubbing her eyes. These sorts of visits usually ended in at least one nobleman being sent to the healer for getting too touchy, and it was more often than not Camilla who landed the blow. She doubted this time would be any different. Camilla would stain yet another lovely dress with their stupid blood. Kamui shrugged and powdered her face, rouging her lips and cheeks.  
Flora unwrapped the towel from her hair and combed through it gently, her fingers quick and gentle. She eyed the mess of hair before her critically before beginning to twist and braid it into an intricate style that situated itself neatly at the nape of her neck. She secured the last lock of hair with a silver and mother of pearl comb, nodding to herself. 

"That shall do. Do you like it, My Lady?" Kamui turned her head this way and that, admiring the effect it had. It accentuated her slender neck and pointed ears. Kamui smiled and nodded, standing. 

"I do, it looks nice. Oh... this dress is going to show a lot of bosom, isn't it?" She said, looking at the bodice. Felicia giggled and nodded. 

"That's the fashion of spring this year. Pastels and tight lacing are in this season. Hurry and get dressed! I want to see it on you!" Kamui huffed a laugh and let her robe fall from her shoulders, stepping into clean undergarments before slipping on the bloomers and shift. Flora helped her with her stays, lacing the corset tightly. 

"Can you breathe, Lady Kamui?" Flora asked. Kamui took a breath and while she found it lacking, there was no fear that should would faint. She nodded and let the bones and busk force her posture to straighten unnaturally. 

"I wish you'd chosen a front tying corset, Flora. These are such a pain to get in and out of." Flora laughed and helped her step into the petticoat.

"So that you could be like a heroine in one of Felicia's tawdry novellas? Not likely. No handsome rakes will be getting into your stays tonight, My Lady." 

"Flora! That is hardly what I meant. By the gods..." Kamui said, her face burning crimson at the very notion. Flora chuckled and knelt to help her into the final layer. Kamui stepped into muslin garment and let the maid button the back. It was a lovely dress, but its daring neckline was unusual for her. She rarely showed cleavage, and seeing her breasts lifted in such a way almost made her think she was looking at someone else.

"Wow... you look amazing! Oh! We need a necklace... here!" Felicia clasped a simple strand of pearls around her neck and Flora handed her a pair of flat embroidered slippers. Kamui glared at the offensive articles a moment before slipping them on grudgingly. They weren't the most uncomfortable shoes she'd been forced into, but she still hated them. 

"Kamui, are you ready? Breakfast is going to be served very soon." Marx called from the other side of the door. Kamui looked herself over once more in the full length mirror by her wardrobe before looking at her servants.

"Are we done?" She asked. Flora nodded, a pleased smile on her lips.

"Yes. You look lovely, the ladies will be dripping in jealousy, and the men shall stare longingly at an uninterested lady. We are finished." Kamui smiled, dabbed a little perfume on her neck, and opened the door. She grinned as Marx's usually stoic expression morphed into one of surprise.

"Did I... miss something? The salon is still days away, Little Dove. You look... lovely, but...?" She laughed at his floundering and took his arm.  
"We've got guests coming for a formal luncheon today. I suppose no one told you since it'll only take you a few moments to get ready." She said, taking care as they made their way down the stairs.

"... Are you wearing shoes?" He asked, glancing down at her feet. She groaned miserably.

"Yes. They forced them on me." He chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You can take them off once we get to the dining hall. I shan't make you wear them."  
***  
As they took their seats around the table, Elise's eyes grew large as she looked at her sisters. She looked between Camilla and Kamui, her eyes drawn to their bosoms as if by a magnet. She crossed her arms across her own chest and huffed, a pout on her lips.

"Gods... you both look so good. Kam... where'd those things come from anyway?" Silence filled the room as Kamui looked at her little sister's innocent face and then down at her breasts. They were not as grand as Camilla's, but it was true she'd blossomed since she was sixteen. Leon began to laugh, his face buried in his hands, shaking his head. Marx cleared his throat, his face composed, but Kamui could see his neck turning red with embarrassment. 

"Ellie... this is hardly appropriate table conversation." Camilla tutted softly, twisting a curl of lilac hair around her finger, a smug look on her face.

"Oh Marx, relax. It's only us, and Elise is allowed to ask such things if she wishes. Kamui, you look lovely, by the way. I'm glad you agreed to wear that dress, it suits you." Marx huffed and crossed his arms, glaring at Leon who was still snickering across the table.

"Really brother, you look as though it was your bosom in question, not Kamui's." He guffawed. Marx rolled his eyes, but smiled regardless. The room soon was filled with cheerful banter and snide jokes at each other's expense. Even when the staff brought in their breakfast, they continued. It was unusual to see Marx so full of cheer.

Kamui looked at Marx's plate and chuckled. It was piled high with steak and poached eggs, asparagus and toast with fresh fruit on the side. To think he'd worried they'd forgotten how much he ate. He sipped his tea silently, and Kamui could tell by its scent it was his favorite blend: black tea with cocoa and calendula blossoms. She couldn't quite understand how he drank it unsweetened. She'd tried it many a time and always found it too bitter without a few heaping spoonfuls of honey, but always found it had a wonderful aftertaste.

"How do you do it? Do you have a hollow leg, three stomachs? Is your stomach a void where everything you eat just sort of... vanishes?" Leon asked abruptly, watching with fascination as Marx ate. Marx looked at his younger brother incredulously as he chewed. "I'm serious. There's no reason for you to eat so much and be hungry again at lunch. What do you do with it? Do you have a parasite?" Marx swallowed and placed his utensils down gently, leaning forward slightly in his chair, his face serious.

"Leon. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the truth is... I share my body with a ravenous demon. If I don't feed it, it will probably consume the universe." Leon glared at his brother's deadpan expression and groaned, rolling his eyes.

"You're in a good mood this morning." Camilla said, eyeing her brother in mild surprise.

"I am. It's a good day thus far. Nothing has caught on fire, no one has fetched me to resolve a calamity, father has said nothing... it's a good day."

And it was, for the time being. They were together and things were almost normal, save the constant threat of war or death looming over them. Marx leaned back in his chair, sipping his tea in quiet content. Kamui wished that these moments could last forever; if only so that he would look at ease, the worry between his brows and in the set of his mouth gone for now. Alas, they could not. Soon, they'd be sitting at this table with outsiders and Marx would wall himself off. He'd become the man only outsiders knew: strong, silent, and certain in all things; but a stranger to her.  
***  
It was as Flora had said; the lords and ladies arrived promptly, their carriages letting each person out one at a time. The first to join them was meant to be her 'date' it seemed. Kamui smiled as Duke Gottfried's son took her hand, bringing it to his lips with a wink. Ashley Gottfried was a friendly young man with wide green eyes and ginger hair. 

He was the sort of boy she'd consider a friend if they got to spend more time around one another, as neither were interested in courting each other. In fact, it was well known among the nobility of Nohr that Ashley was of a different persuasion, more likely to fancy a gentleman. It was unfortunate that bloodlines and heirs were more important than happiness. There were surely others among them like him, who would be forced to wed someone they could never love in full. They waited as the rest of the guests joined them, and Kamui found herself pleasantly surprised.

Camilla received Erik Humphrey, who greeted her with a kiss to her hand; which she wiped surreptitiously on her dress. Erik was the son of an Earl, and his father was one of Garon's strongest supporters. Erik himself, though a bit of an idiot was fairly likable. He was respectful enough of those around him, but he was often too competitive. He was already trying to impress her sister, who hardly hid her boredom. 

"Lady Camilla makes him look like a mewling kitten. He's biting off more than he can chew, I think." Ashley murmured. Kamui smirked and glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

"Oh, yes. I think he'll end up hurt by the end of the night." He nodded and they shared a quiet laugh. Ashley and she had always gotten along well enough, and it made these sorts of functions bearable. 

Together they watched as Lady Elizabeth Durmond approached Leon, her cheeks turning a soft rose as he bowed and took her hand. Elizabeth had always been one to blush easily, but Leon flustered her more than anyone else. While it was clear Leon had little interest in the girl, she had eyes only for him and had since they were little. It was sad perhaps; but Leon never once gave her hope, which was the kindest thing he could do.

"Poor Lizzie. She's so in love, but it just won't ever be. Pity, they'd be a lovely couple." Ashley whispered. Kamui hummed in agreement. It was truth. Leon was pretty with his delicate features and slender build. He didn't match Nohr's traditional ideal of what a 'handsome' man was, but it never stopped Elizabeth or any other girl; for that matter, from swooning as he walked by. Elizabeth was a pale skinned girl, with dark ringlets that fell heavily around her shoulders and expressive brown eyes ringed in thick lashes. She reminded Kamui of a doll in a shop window.

The final carriage rolled up in front, flying the Wendell coat of arms. Kamui groaned internally as the coachman helped Anna Wendell step out. Anna Wendell wasn't a bad person, she was just... touchy. The Wendells were a power hungry family who would push and push for even just a little influence; typical of Nohrian nobility. Anna herself was a flamboyant young woman with a penchant for scandal. Kamui felt something twist in her stomach as she watched Marx bow gracefully, brushing his lips across the woman's knuckles. Anna fluttered her lashes as she gazed down at him, hiding her expression behind her fan.  
Kamui didn't want to put a name on the feeling boiling away in her chest, but the desire to scratch "Lady" Wendell's eyes out grew as she clutched the prince's arm shamelessly. She seethed as they made their way into the main hall together, unable to concentrate on Ashley's pleasant chatting. The longer she looked at the woman clinging to Marx, the more she could only envision a leech.

"You're glaring a hole through her, My Lady. I realize she's shameless, but I'm sure His Highness can take care of himself, no?" Ashley whispered. Kamui jolted, her cheeks burning. She held her head a little higher and cleared her throat lightly, trying to dislodge the searing anger building within her. She took a breath, cursing the corset as it kept her lungs from expanding.  
They were seated in the dining hall, which had been decorated since the last time she'd been there. The table was draped with a fine maroon table cloth, with a vase of white lilies and forget-me-nots sitting in the center. Candles burned cheerfully, setting what was meant to be a soothing atmosphere. It just made Kamui even more on edge. What else would that little hussy do when the lights were so dim? 

She thanked Ashley as he pushed in her chair and made herself comfortable, pointedly ignoring Anne. She sat between Marx and Camilla, and their guests sat opposite each of them, as Nohrian customs demanded. No young people who could potentially be wooing should ever sit too close; it was deemed inappropriate.

As soon as they were settled, Erik launched himself into a tale of his most recent hunt, but Kamui ignored him. She had no interest in hearing a man's tale of how they trapped and slaughtered a poor, stupid animal. She looked around the table, taking in the faces of the people around her. Camilla looked bored to tears, while Leon at least attempted to seem mildly invested. Marx watched as stoically as ever, but his gaze was glazed over. It was nice to know the others were as tired of it as she already was.

Instead of attempting to listen to the man's bluster, or think about what Anne may attempt under the table, Kamui focused instead on the warmth of the body to her left. Marx had always been a comforting and solid presence in her life. He'd become more stoic and withdrawn over the years, making her fear that his stress was growing too great. He was more reserved in his affection now, no longer squeezing the breath from her lungs when he held her. She sighed and relaxed against the chair behind her, watching him from the corner of her eye.

This close, she could smell the cologne that clung to his clothes and skin. It was a dark, smoky scent that invoked images of a fire burning low in a hearth on a winter evening, entwined with a lover. It suited him and the way she felt for him perfectly. She loved him, it was a plainly spoken truth. He was the person she'd always trusted, always admired, and always relied on. He taught her much of the world, even though she'd never seen it.

He loved, but never coddled. He was unafraid to tell her when she was wrong, but never withheld his praise. His was a firm, gentle hand that nurtured and guided. Along the way, she'd begun to love him as a man. She could still remember the night that she'd realized it; and how the revelation had lifted a weight from her chest. She'd noticed something had changed and had agonized over the way it felt for weeks. She'd known her love hadn't waned, but it had felt different; much like tasting a familiar meal with an unfamiliar spice added in. It wasn't until the winter ball of her sixteenth year that she finally understood.

They had slunk away from the crowded ballroom together, each needing a moment to breathe. Noble ladies had harassed him all night up until that point, and he'd said that if he had to dance with one more person, he'd scream. Her feet had ached terribly. Shoes with delicate heels had been in fashion that year, so she wanted a chance to remove the damnable things. He had let her ride on his back out into the main garden, gently placing her on the bench. She'd abandoned all manners and hiked up her skirt to her knees, plunging her pained feet into the icy fountain.

His laugh had been so earnest in those days. She had watched him remove his formal jacket and dress down to his shirt and trousers, his shirt collar open to reveal the pale skin of his throat. Her eyes had been drawn immediately to the new territory and realized how she desired to kiss it. After that, it was though she were seeing him for the first time. His hair was inviting, all but begging for her to run her fingers through it and watch as each curl sprang back into place. His brandy colored eyes were as warm and intoxicating as the drink itself, and his mouth was sweetly tempting. She finally understood what had changed. He was not a brother to her, and perhaps never had been.

It wasn't as though Garon had gone through any great lengths to make her feel included in his family. Quite the opposite really. He never let her forget her otherness, her lack of ties to them in any physical way. Perhaps this was an outcome he'd hoped for? Perhaps his attempts to make her feel excluded came from a desire to push her into the arms of one of his sons? Marx was the most likely candidate for such a plan. He was the eldest, and from the way the king went on about their lineage, Marx carried the most old blood in his veins. She smiled dryly. She wouldn't let Garon sour her love for him.

She was too afraid to tell him her true feelings for now, but one day maybe she would find the courage. For now, she'd only have moments like these, and her cruel dreams. She'd have to wake aching and quivering, her desire for the man in her dreams overpowering all sense of shame and propriety. She shifted in her chair, rubbing her thighs together in the process. His proximity in the dim room was hardly making the sudden need in her diminish. She watched him from under heavily lidded eyes, crossing her legs.

The candlelight softened his features, highlighting his plush lips and soft hair. She wet her lips and breathed as deeply as she could, letting his scent bury itself in her lungs. A throat being cleared surprised her and she jerked upright, looking around wildly. Ashley looked at her knowingly from across the table before speaking.

"Are you feeling unwell, My Lady? You look a bit faint." Kamui coughed and waved a hand dismissively, hoping no one could see how her face colored.

"No... I'm alright. I'm just feeling a little short of breath. " She said. Camilla stood immediately, concern etched in every line of her youthful face.

"Oh, Darling! That just won't do. Come, you should rest a moment. Excuse us." She felt bad for lying, but she couldn't very well say she was having inappropriate thoughts about a man most thought to be her family. She let her elder sister lead her from the dining room and up to her room, fussing the whole way.  
***  
Once they reached her chambers, Camilla promptly yanked the back of her dress open and undid her stays. Kamui heaved a deep breath, leaning against her vanity in relief. While the tightness certainly hadn't been her true source of discomfort, she was still grateful to have it undone.

"I'm so sorry, Darling! I didn't expect it would make you so miserable, forgive me?" She asked. Kamui looked over her shoulder, smiling.

"Oh this isn't your fault. It isn't anyone's fault." Camilla chuckled and kissed her cheek. 

"Good, I'm glad you aren't upset. Now... let me sort this thing out for you. We can't have you fainting on us." She tugged the stays closed, humming gently. She knew how to lace her little sister's corset by now, and what she could withstand. "Can you believe that shameless little Jezebel? A noble lady throwing herself all over a man like that, honestly. And Marx of all people. Even she should know better, it's embarrassing." 

"Unfortunately, I can. She's always been like this, if you'll remember? This is just the first time she's gotten a chance to try her... "charms" on someone higher than an Earl." Camilla huffed and crossed her arms, pouting.

"Yes well, she needs to keep her paws off my brother. I will destroy her if there's so much as a hair out of place when I return." With as protective as Camilla was over her, it was easy to forget that she held to her other siblings almost as tightly. She had to be a little bit sneaky about it with Marx, as he would chide her for it; but many a girl had received a withering glare from Nohr's eldest princess behind his back. 

"Well, if she gets too grabby, he'll say something. He's never been one to put up with trespasses by strangers." Kamui said, shrugging. Camilla hummed as she buttoned the back of her dress once more, smirking as Kamui turned to face her.

"Really, you and Ellie are the only ones he'll put up with for longer than a moment."

"Really? I hadn't noticed." Her sister looked at her dubiously, her thin brows pinched together.

"Are you serious? How many times have you seen him sit still while I clung to him? How long has it been since he allowed me to braid his hair? I can't remember the last time he let me." Thinking on it, neither could Kamui. There had been a time when he was unabashedly affectionate with them all, but he was younger. 

Perhaps he felt that such unrestrained fondness would make him look soft? She knew he couldn't afford that. He was the son of Garon, Crown prince of Nohr, and a warrior by nature. He wasn't the same tender child of ten years ago. No one could look at him and call him "pup" any more. His hands gripped both sword and pen with equal steadiness, with the wisdom to know which was needed at any given moment. He had the respect of many both in and outside the military, but there were those who were loyal only to the king, and that was what scared her.

"Camilla... am I wrong in worrying over him? I fear that he's hiding something. Something that may... hurt him badly." Camilla eased herself down onto the bed, her eyes far away.

"You know as much as I, Kamui. Marx has become... reticent of late. More so than ever. I fear that he may have decided that he must bare the weight of this fight alone. For now, I fear we must let him. Stand beside him, and know that your presence soothes him."

"Soothe him? He always looks he same to me." She said, kicking off her slippers. "He still wears the same frown, and the same crumpled brow. If that is the look of one who is soothed, then what does he look like when he is alone?"

"I think it is because you are there that he shows anything at all. He does so unconsciously when you are with him, and when you touch his hair or take his hand, he looks... at peace. Stay close to him, Kamui. I feel he will need you soon." 

As embarrassed as this talk made her, it felt good to hear that someone saw her deep affection for him as a positive thing. It gave her hope that perhaps one day, she could tell him her feelings without fear of reprisal from those closest to her.

"You always have loved him best, haven't you Darling?" Camilla mused, reaching for her younger sister. Kamui allowed her to pull her down beside her.  
"I love each of you with everything I have, Sister. There is nothing I wouldn't do if it meant I could protect you." Camilla chuckled and cradled the younger woman in her arms, an almost motherly tenderness in her eyes.

"I know that, but it isn't what I meant. I know that you love us all, it was never in question; I simply meant that out of us all, you love him best. You seem to understand what he needs, and see things in him we do not. I admire that." Kamui pulled back, searching her sister's face. She almost feared Camilla knew the truth of her feelings, but she'd always taken such care to control herself around him. She never let her touches linger the way she wished. She never said 'I love you' unless she was addressing at least one other person.

"Did something I say trouble you, Darling? You seem... upset." She said. Kamui shook her head. 

"No, I'm fine. I'm just frustrated, he's so stubborn." She said, hoping the fib would suffice. Camilla sighed, brushing her bangs out of her face.

"I fear all we can do is wait for him to stumble under the burden he's taken on. Once he becomes lost, we will be there to show him the path. Help him regain his footing, show him a better way. In the end, we will get our stubborn ox to come around. Perhaps right now, he just needs to realize for himself what we already know." Kamui arched her eyebrow, a half smile tugging at her lips.

"And what might that be?"

"That he's only a man, and that he can be himself when he's with us." The two of them exchanged understanding looks. They both knew how Garon berated him for his gentler disposition. Gods only knew what else he said to him when they weren't there to hear.

"We should probably return to the table." Kamui said, sighing heavily. Her desire had left her, though the discomfort lingered. She'd not be forgetting it any time soon.

"Ugh, I suppose. If I thought we could get away with it, I'd grab the boys and Ellie and we'd leave." She murmured. "Find a safe place for the five of us, far away from father. We could be happy." Kamui squeezed her sister's hand, smiling sadly. Camilla shook her head and lead her towards the door. "Let's get back to it, Darling. We don't have to endure this forever."  
***  
By the time they returned to the dining hall, lunch was mostly finished, their plates still under the metal covers. Marx looked over his shoulder at them, his concern showing in his eyes. He patted her hand gently as she took her seat once more. 

"Are you alright now, Little Dove?" He asked. His cheeks flushed slightly when he realized he'd used his little nickname for her in public. It had become such a part of his daily vernacular that he no longer thought about it, it seemed.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, Marx." She knew better than to call him her 'little lion' in front of the others. Even when they were alone, he used to become flustered. She hadn't used that nickname in many years; not since she'd discovered her feeling for him. Besides, he was hardly little anymore. It seemed a silly thing to call a grown man. 

"Lady Kamui, I never would have thought that one of Nohr's royal family couldn't handle tight lacing. How... odd." Anne said, her words pointed despite her innocent tone. Kamui leaned in slightly, her smile all teeth.

"Truly? If that's the oddest thing you can think of, you should get out more." Kamui said. Anne cleared her throat and looked down at her plate.

"Quite. I'm pleased you feel better." Kamui relaxed, abandoning her threatening posture. 

"Yes, thank you." She could feel Marx sitting rigidly in his chair beside her. He wasn't pleased with her display, and would likely reprimand her later, but she wouldn't allow some girl be rude to her. Especially not when she overstepped boundaries at every turn. Marx cleared his throat and stood, pushing his chair in.

"Well, Shall we move on from here, my friends? It's such a nice day out. It would be silly to waste it indoors." He said, the levity in his voice forced. 

"I think that's a wonderful idea! I'd love for you to show me the gardens, Your Highness." Anne said, her voice full of heavy handed flirting. Marx said nothing, instead choosing to open the door, and hold it for the rest of them as they filed out. Anne lingered, taking his arm once more. Kamui grit her teeth and clutched Ashley's arm in a nearly crushing grip as the girl chattered.

"You're so handsome, My Lord. A man like you ought never be alone." She chirped. 

"Thank you, Lady Anne. But surely, you praise me too highly." Anne's giggle felt like claws on the inside of Kamui's skull, raking across her brain.

"Oh no! There are few men that could ever hope to match you." 

"No, really. Men are useless if their egos become too large, My Lady." Kamui threw Ashley a sideways glance and they shared an understanding smile. Anyone with any sense would hear the unspoken 'I don't want to hear this from you' in his voice. 

"You're much too modest, Your Highness. A man like yourself deserves only the highest praise." Up ahead, Leon and Elizabeth came to a sudden halt, and Kamui thought that the younger prince would surely snap at the woman, but to her surprise; it was Elizabeth who turned to face them.

"Lady Anne? I believe you're making His Highness uncomfortable... perhaps you should stop?" Elizabeth's small voice was unusually resolute, and for the first time ever, Leon looked impressed with her. 

"Oh heavens! Am I, Your Highness?" 

"A bit, perhaps." His posture was stiff, matching his curt tone. Kamui smirked to herself. Perhaps that would make the girl back off.

"Oh, forgive me." From her tone, it was clear that Anne realized that her blunder was not one she would easily come back from. Marx was still shy at his core, and didn't take incessant flattery well.

"All is well, My Lady." 

Once they reached the gardens, Anne had all but disengaged from the handsome man she'd previously been clinging to, and while she was relieved; Kamui almost felt bad for her. She knew Anne's family had fallen into disgrace and were close to losing both title and land. They likely saw Anne's marriage as one of the last chances they had to regain their honor. They probably had to beg for a chance just to set her up with an Earl, so who knew what they'd had to do to get her this chance. 

She was also seen as a spinster by most, nearly twenty five and unmarried as she was. Soon, she'd be almost useless to her parents in their bid to regain influence. She would end up stuck in her parent's home, and seen a burden, only taking over the estate if her brother were to pass away first. No one deserved a fate such as that. When Marx was swept away in a conversation with Camilla and the others, Kamui approached. It felt wrong to leave her sitting there alone, despite how irritating she'd found the girl.

"May I sit down, Lady Wendell ?" She asked. Anne looked up, a fake smile spreading across her face.

"Of course, Princes Kamui! I would be honored!" All traces of her prior cattiness had been lost, most likely because she was no longer playing the flirtatious socialite.

"You seem troubled. I'm not going to ask you to tell me your secrets, of course; but if you need an ear, perhaps I would listen." Anne was silent for many minutes, simply gazing at the fountain, but at length, she turned from the magnificent marble piece and looked Kamui square in the eye.

"When I was a little girl, I dreamed of getting married. I envisioned a happy day surrounded by people I loved, with a man I loved standing at the end of the aisle. As I grew, I realized it wouldn't be like that of course. That's the thing of fairy tales, where princesses marry their knights and princes fall in love with dairy maids. I am the daughter of a Duke, and I will have to marry and bear children, just like any other. I wish I could be more like you, Princess. But I'm not." Kamui was taken aback by the sudden confession.

"That's silly. Why on earth would you want to be like me?"

"Because you are always yourself, regardless of who may be watching. You have no fear of the judgement of others, and people like you regardless. I envy that." Kamui smiled and patted the other woman's hand, all previous irritation lost.

"Oh Anne. I do fear what people think. I often forget myself and behave inappropriately. Then instead of learning to behave as I should, I do it again and again. When Queen Ecaterina was still alive, I used to get in trouble all the time. So you see? There's no need to envy me. Just be yourself, and people will like you, too." Anne laughed, earnest and cheerful.

"Thank you. I suppose I should apologize to the Prince. I've thoroughly embarrassed myself and my family." Kamui shook her head, smiling.  
"You already have. He understands what it's like to be a prisoner to marriage politics, I can promise you that." Relief flooded Anne's eyes and she laughed, wiping her eyes.

"I suppose you're right. I feel much better now. Could we... be friends, Princess?" Kamui smiled and stood, offering her hand to the young Duchess. 

"Of course! Come, I'll show you the gardens."  
***

"Your Highness?" Marx frowned and looked up from his book. The servant shifted nervously from foot to foot.

"What is it?" He asked. 

"I apologize for interrupting your evening tea, but His Majesty requests your presence in the eastern study." Marx frowned and marked his place, putting the book down on the table.

"Very well, thank you. If the others inquire, let them know where I am." He said, making his way towards the door. If his father wanted to speak with him in the east wing, then he wished to discuss something private, which rarely boded well. His footsteps echoed on the marble tiles and vaulted ceiling. It was getting late, and most people had already retired for the evening. He doubted he'd be going to bed any time soon at this rate.  
He came to a halt outside the door of his father's private study, steeling himself for what he knew would likely be an unpleasant talk. With a nod, he knocked on the door, waiting to be invited in.

"Enter." He did as his father commanded and came to stand on the other side of the desk from him, standing at a rigid attention as he'd always been taught. His father looked up at length, his face disturbingly neutral. 

"You called for me, Father?" Marx asked, trying to keep his voice even. The last thing he needed tonight was to show his father any fear.

"Yes. I wanted to speak about what happened yesterday morning. You were very insubordinate. You know how I feel about that, boy." Marx squared his shoulders, gathering his courage.

"Forgive me, Father. The sudden announcement caught me off guard. I was surprised." The King leaned forward, folding his hands on the desktop.

"Surprised? You raved like a madman. Were you a dog, I'd have had you put down. Are you ready to talk about this like a sensible adult?" Marx nodded in silence, looking just over his father's left shoulder. "Good. Now. Tell me your concerns. Calmly, this time."

"We cannot expect to fund such a vast campaign. We would have to increase taxes on our already suffering people. If we take much more from them, they won't be able to afford necessities. Then comes the issue of foodstuffs. While we can certainly raid fields in Hoshido, we can't rely on it. Many of them will likely burn their crops rather than let us take them. Our farms barely provide now. Would you have us take the last crust of bread from a child's plate? How can we demand that our people starve while we play the conqueror? This is irresponsible." Garon stood and came around the desk to stand beside his son.

"Is that all? You worry for peasants, and dare raise your voice to me? You're a soft fool." Marx grit his teeth, but said nothing. His words would be lost on his father. "Look at me, boy." Garon growled, gripping his son's jaw, forcing him to meet his eyes. Marx winced in his father's vice-like grip, praying he wouldn't bruise. "Is there anything else? No other reason you would defy me?" Marx shook his head. "Speak up, you imbecile."

"No Father. That is all. My concerns lay with the people." Garon released his face with a snort.

"This has nothing to do with Kamui?" He asked. Marx's heart thudded in his chest. He should have known his father was looking for weaknesses. His father was anything but a fool, and knew of their discontent.

"No Father. Kamui has only ever known us, and will not disobey you. As I have said, I'm only concerned for the commoners." He lied. Kamui was certainly a driving force in his dissent. Not his primary issue; perhaps, but her opinions mattered to him. 

"Good. I feared your fondness for that girl had gone to your head. You're too attached to her for your own good, and it's made you weak." Marx grit his teeth and glared ahead at the wall. 

"If loving my family makes me weak, then I shall be weak. At least I'll have no regrets." He said. Garon laughed and took his seat once more.

"Not to worry, boy. I shall carve that disgusting tenderness out of you before this is done. You'll thank me in the end. Gather the others in the throne room. I expect you all there in half an hour. No exceptions."  
***  
Marx did as he was told and collected his family one at a time, even waking Elise. He felt guilty dragging them all out of bed at such a late hour, but it was better if they all obeyed than suffer the consequences should they not. He shepherded them into the throne room, arriving ten minutes before they were to be there.

Leon yawned and looked at his elder brother, still rubbing sleep from his eyes. Marx ignored their questioning looks. He knew no more about this than they. He bit the inside of his cheek to stave off a yawn, starting when he felt gentle fingers brush the back of his hand.

"You're tense. Is this something we should worry about?" Kamui asked, squeezing his fingers. He looked down at her briefly before fixing his eyes once again on the throne.

"I'm not sure. I doubt it's anything good." He answered, crossing his arms across his chest. There were many things he never wanted his father to see. Kamui's affection was one of them. He wasn't worthy of it. His thoughts ground to a a halt as his father took a seat on the throne, staring down at them like they were insects beneath his boot.

"Good, you're all here. Marx has brought his concerns to me, and I imagine you all share the same opinions. You five do tend to cling together like vines. In light of his insight, I have decided it is time for you all to prove your loyalty to me." Marx furrowed his brow and let his arms fall back to his side.

"What do you mean, Father?" He asked, stepping in front of his family. Garon looked down at him, a sadistic glee in his eyes.

"Kamui, step forward." Marx felt her brush by him and longed to pull her back so that he could shield her with his body. 

"Yes, Sire?" She asked. Her posture was perfectly relaxed save her hands, which she clenched in tight fists at her side. 

"This war no doubt affects you, as Hoshido is your homeland. I need to know that you can be trusted to follow orders, and kill when necessary. I have a test for you." Camilla strode forward, shaking her head.

"Father, this is silly. Kamui is as loyal to you as we are."

"Silence, Camilla." Garon said, a thinly veiled threat in his voice. "Kamui, you will be going to the Wendell duchy tomorrow. The Duke has sent word that there has been an increase in bandit raids on his townships. You are to find the leader of these miscreants and bring me something of his to prove him dead. You will go alone." Marx shook his head and stepped forward, standing between Kamui and his father.

"Father, this is insane. Those are our most dangerous lands, and you would send her alone? At least let me accompany her, please!" He couldn't keep the pleading tone from his voice, and his father certainly didn't miss it.

"Marx. You've gone through great pains to train Kamui in combat, have you not?" His father asked, his voice infuriatingly casual. 

"Of course, but--"

"Are you telling me that you feel she is helpless without you?" Marx glared in silence until Kamui stepped around him, her voice calm.

"Marx has trained me well, Sire. I will do as you command and return to you before the salon." Garon smiled tauntingly at his eldest son.

"Good. You shall leave first thing in the morning, and escort Lady Wendell home. From there, you will continue on alone. You all may go. And Marx... do not disobey me. You've tested my patience enough."  
***  
They returned to their rooms in silence, but instead of returning directly to his own, Marx stopped in front of Kamui's door, taking her by the elbow.

"Kamui..." She turned to him, smiling softly. 

"Come in for a moment, you look like there's something you wish to say." He shook his head. He hadn't allowed them to be alone in such an intimate way in a very long time, and wasn't going to start now.

"Only this: please come back safe. We couldn't bear it if you were hurt." She smiled and brushed a wayward lock of hair behind his ear.

"I'll be fine, Marx. I promise. You have to agree with your father on one point... you did make me strong." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. She was right, of course. He knew she was no wilting blossom, but her preciousness to him couldn't be measured.

"Please..." He pleaded, squeezing her hand. "Please, just tell me you'll come back unharmed." She nodded and stepped forward, embracing him.

"I promise. I'll be back before you know it." Marx heaved a sigh and nodded. It would have to suffice. He couldn't go along, so he would have to trust her to take care of herself.

"Very well... goodnight, Little Dove. I shall see you before you go." He did his best to ignore the way his heart fluttered when she came up on her toes and kissed his cheek, whispering a soft 'goodnight' before leaving him alone in the hall. His father claimed that his love made him weak, yet he always felt so strong when she was near. If it was what ended him, he would have no regrets.


	3. Looming Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kamui and Anne find they share a common goal as they spend time talking, and Marx comes up with a plan to assist her from a distance. Things do not go according to plan, however.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW! You can easily skip the inappropriate bit near the end and I give a fair amount of warning, but if you want to read it, it's there. Just don't skip the last scene. Please keep in mind, I'm rusty when it comes to smut, this was an attempt to get back into the swing of it.

"Did you pack enough underwear, Darling?" Camilla asked, rooting through the small bag on the bed. "This bag is so small, you couldn't have!" Kamui smiled as Flora finished pinning her hair out of her face and Joker finished lacing her boots. Her butler sighed in annoyance as Felicia stumbled, nearly dropping the breakfast tray on her way out. As the maid righted herself, Kamui smiled down at him, pleased with the calm that came over his face. When the more refined servants left, she turned her attention back to Camilla, who was still fussing with the bag.

"Sister, I'm only going to be gone a few days. It's not as though I can bring my whole wardrobe." She reasoned, coming to stand beside her sister. "Besides, Joker packed the bag. As if he'd let me leave the house unprepared."

"I know, but a lady can't walk around in dirty knickers. It's unhygienic!" A familiar chuckle from the doorway had them both whirling to face the sound. Marx stood in the open doorway, looking as though he'd barely slept the night before. Her heart ached to see him looking so exhausted.

"Sister, if Kamui feels she has enough, then trust her. She's a grown woman now." He said, his words slightly slurred. Camilla frowned and snatched the hairbrush from Kamui's vanity, hurling it in his direction. It clattered against the frame where he'd been just seconds before. "Hey!"

"Don't just barge into a lady's room unannounced, you cad! We were discussing her unmentionables!" Marx snorted and rolled his tired eyes, a bitter smile on his lips.

"It's hardly 'barging in' if the door is left wide open, dear sister. Besides, it's not like I haven't seen-- OUCH!" Kamui looked up to see Marx rubbing his head, fending off a hairbrush wielding Camilla.

"You dog! And to think I thought my little Darling's dignity was safe with you!"

"Ouch! Don't--hit me!" 

"Well if you weren't such a pervert, I wouldn't have to!" Marx yelped as she pinched the back of his arm. "I'll be watching you." Marx looked at her flabbergasted. 

"Pervert!? Now see here--" Their squabble was interrupted by Elise tearing through the door, flinging herself into Kamui's arms.

"Sis! Why do you have to go? This isn't fair! I want to go, too!" She whined, burying her face into Kamui's chest. Kamui shushed her and stroked her hair. She didn't want to leave any more than they wished to see her go, but the king's command was absolute. 

Leon drifted in silently, looking almost as tired as the rest of them. His normally tidy hair stuck up in odd places, and he sported a splotch of black ink on his cheek. He still wore the clothes he'd been in the night before. 

"Did you fall asleep at your desk?" Marx asked, reaching out to smooth his little brother's hair. Leon swatted at his brother's hands as they went about tidying him up.

"Yes. Why?" He asked, shoving helplessly on his brother's chest as Marx licked his thumb and scrubbed at the smudge of ink on his face. "Ugh, stop that! I'm not a child!" Kamui smiled as she watched them. These people were her family and she loved them dearly; they made her happy even when things looked grim.

"There. That's better, at least. Make sure you clean up before breakfast, you still look a little... scruffy." Leon pouted and crossed his arms.

"Yes mother." He grumbled, wiping furiously at his cheek. "Gods, I can't believe you'd still do that. Grooooooss." 

"Oh Leon, you know how Marx is. He would never let any of us go out looking like we didn't know how to act." Kamui said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. They all looked at her with resignation in their eyes.

"I wish we didn't have to leave you on your own..." Leon said miserably. Kamui sighed and stepped forward, embracing her younger brother. Leon squeezed her tightly, lifting her feet from the ground. "Promise me you'll run if things get too bad. We can think of something else, anything else... but you aren't allowed to die." He murmured. She kissed his forehead, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

"I won't abandon you, little brother. I promise. I'll come home." She looked around her at the other faces, hating how sad they all looked. Elise was close to tears, and Camilla's fretting made her look at least ten years older. Worry creased Marx's face in a familiar way, but the guilt in his eyes hurt. "Walk me to the stables, won't you?" She asked them. Marx stepped forward and took her bag, slinging it over his shoulder. Leon took one of her hands while Elise took the other and together, they all paraded down to the stables where Arlo would be waiting.  
***

The grounds were silent this early, shrouded in a heavy mist that settled down into the pit from above. Their footfalls were muted in the eerie silence, but while surrounded by her family, she felt safe. This safety would leave her once she was outside the city gates, but she was as prepared as she could ever be. Marx had trained her ruthlessly in combat, and Gunter had drilled her in geography and tactics since she was small. At the very least, she'd be able to form a plan. Leon's hand squeezing hers shook her from her thoughts.

They'd arrived at the stables. Her heart ached in her chest and she wondered briefly if Marx ever felt this way when they'd come to see him off. She bit her lip as he moved past to secure her pack onto the saddle. She allowed Leon to pull her into another crushing hug before being pulled away by Camilla. She thought they would kill her with their worried affection before she even got to leave the gates at this rate. After Elise nuzzled and complained into her bosom for a moment, she found herself all but shoved into Marx's chest, her ear pressed firmly over his heart. 

She sighed and embraced him with as much strength as she could muster, wishing he'd hold her as fiercely. She smiled as he rested his cheek against the top of her head, curling around her as his warmth radiated through her.

"I swear to think of some way to help you, Little Dove. Do not be reckless." Kamui looked up into his face, searching his eyes for a hint of his thoughts. Finding none, she nodded.

"Promise me you won't be reckless either?" She asked, just loud enough for him to hear. He shook his head softly.

"I will follow father's orders in all matters save those concerning you. If I must do something reckless, then so be it."

"But... your father will punish you... I cannot--"

"It doesn't matter. I will not send you to your death. Whatever I must suffer to ensure your safety is a price I will gladly pay. Now, promise me you'll not be reckless." Her heart ached at those words, but she knew it was nothing she wouldn't say herself. With a shaky breath, she nodded and squeezed him a final time before pulling away.

"Alright. I promise. May I ask a favor of you?" He nodded and watched wordlessly as she reached out to brush her fingers over his cravat. "May I borrow this?" She asked. She could feel her face turning red, but she held his gaze; even as he arched an eyebrow in confusion.

"My cravat? Why...?"

"So that I don't get lonely. Your scent makes me think of home." He coughed awkwardly as he began to untie it, handing it over to her with clumsy fingers.

"The smell won't linger very long, you know?" He said, his voice uncertain. She laughed and tucked the article away in her satchel, shaking her head.

"My senses are sharper than yours, if you'll remember. I'll still be able to smell it." She felt ridiculous having this conversation, but having something to remind herself of what awaited here would help. She'd take tokens from them all if she thought it wouldn't make this even stranger. She cleared her throat awkwardly and backed away, climbing into the saddle. "I need to get going. Anne's carriage is ready to depart now." She said.

"Be careful, Darling. I shan't forgive you if you come to harm without me there to help you." Camilla said, looking at Marx from the corner of her eye. Kamui was sure that exchange looked odd to the rest of them.

"I will, I promise. I'll be back soon." Elise approached, holding a single wildflower in her hand, holding it out.

"Here, sis. I thought you'd like this." Kamui smiled and tucked the flower behind her ear. She took a steadying breath and looked at her family one more time before urging Arlo forward, ruffling Leon's hair on her way by. 

"I love you all. Be good while I'm away." She could hear Elise calling out her goodbyes, but she couldn't let herself look back at them. If she did, then she'd turn around and let Camilla pull her in for another hug while Elise wove flower crowns. She urged the animal under her to move faster, hoping to reach the courtyard and meet with Anne's party before the others had time to return. Seeing them again would make this too hard.

She reached the courtyard and was met with Anne's smile and cheerful chatter. Kamui gave her new friend a warm greeting in return, but her heavy heart kept her from feeling it in full. Thankfully, Anne seemed to be too sleepy to make prolonged conversation, so she could be alone with her thoughts.  
***

The sound of Arlo's hooves on the ground was all that kept her awake. She had hardly gotten any sleep the night before, thinking of what she would encounter on her madman's quest, and already missing her loved ones. She remembered with a bitter fondness Marx's first excursion beyond the castle walls as a tender cub of fifteen. She'd been so fearful that he would be hurt that she'd begged him to let her sleep beside him the night before. 

It had stormed horribly that night, and she'd clung to him and sobbed into his shirt the whole night through. He was unashamed of his affectionate nature in those days, and never hesitated to take her hand or stroke her hair. Perhaps he was where the desire for contact had come from? When he was younger, he sought out gentle kisses on the brow or tight embraces and the lacing of fingers. He used to crave affection like a man starved. 

Camilla said she soothed him, but she didn't agree. She remembered what it was like to soothe him. He would lay beside her on his bedroom floor as she traced patterns on the back of his hand and he told her what troubled him. She would braid his golden hair and whisper to him, and he would pour out his heart. By the end, he would be smiling once again, the weight that he'd bore previously lifted. It was not so anymore.

If anything, she felt that he was more agitated by her touch now than anything. He never pulled away or avoided it, but he seemed... tense, no matter how innocuous it was. She wanted to ask if it bothered him, but she feared his answer. She feared that he would say yes, and ask her to not touch him anymore. She would do as he asked, of course. She'd never want to make him uncomfortable or unhappy, but it would be hard to resist. Over the years, she'd grown addicted to the way his hair felt slipping through her fingers and the smoothness of his cheek. 

She sighed heavily, glaring up at the gray sky. It would rain soon. Spring time in Nohr was predictable. Pouring rains would bring mudslides and homeless people flocking to chapels for safe harbor. It happened every year, just like the yuletide ball. She tugged her hood up, urging her horse forward. The driver looked at her, his expression resigned.

"It's 'bout ta rain, Milady. Ya sure ya want ta be out init?" He asked. Kamui smiled grimly. Of course she didn't but they couldn't exactly have Arlo strapped into their team. There was no room, nor was he trained for such labor. She had little choice.

"I'll be alright, good man. I shan't melt." The driver chuckled and nodded. Together, they braced themselves as the first drops of rain fell from the sky, which quickly became a deluge. Kamui sighed and pulled her cloak tighter around herself. This would be a very long ride indeed.  
***

Marx sipped his tea and stared up at the painted ceiling above him. The old familiar bitterness flooded his mouth, matching the loneliness he felt. With Kamui gone, the palace felt huge and too dark. He sighed, looking at the scene above him. He'd looked at this painting almost every day since he was a child, every brushstroke committed to his memory. 

He missed the times when he'd sit in this room with the others hiding from their father and his mother. They tucked themselves away in this room to avoid the harshness of their early days, playing or reading, and leaning on one another for support. He missed those moments, just basking in the love of his family. 

They never came here anymore. This room was now his own study where he received important guests or did his work. Somehow, as he got older, this room became off limits to them. Was it his fault? Did he say or do something that made them feel unwelcome in his personal spaces? He sighed and placed his teacup down on the desk, letting his head fall into his hands.

He was tired. He had stayed up all night worrying for Kamui, trying to think of someway to help her without inciting his father's wrath. This was already punishment enough, and one that could have dire consequences. The last thing he needed was to put her or the others in more danger. 

There had to be something he could do... someone he could go to that was not bound by his father... or at least, not really. Perhaps... he could ask the old man. Sir Gunter was well respected, and out of the palace enough to not arouse suspicion. Even his father rarely questioned him or his judgement. Gunter was wise enough to play the loyal fool, while giving himself in full to Kamui. He'd be returning soon. 

If he could speak with Gunter, then perhaps the old man could think of something. It was hardly a perfect solution, but better than sitting here with anxiety eating away his wits. He tugged the rope near his desk that would sound a bell in the servant's quarters. He didn't need to tell them any more than who he needed to speak with. They wouldn't ask questions. A shy knocking minutes later heralded their arrival.

"Enter." Marx called out. To his surprise, Kamui's handmaid entered, moving carefully so as not to trip. The girl really was a walking disaster. 

"D-did you need something, My Lord? More tea?" He shook his head and leaned forward across his desk, looking her more directly in the eyes.

"No, no. Thank you for coming so quickly, Felicia. Listen carefully. When Sir Gunter returns from the border, I need you to tell me immediately. Be discreet, and tell only me. Do you understand?" Felicia nodded seriously.

"You wish to speak with him about Lady Kamui. I shall send word immediately when he arrives. Do you not wish for Flora and Joker to keep an eye out, too?" She asked. While he wanted as few people to know what they could be up to, he also knew that Joker and Flora were loyal to their mistress to a fault. There was little chance of things going south if they knew.

"Yes, I believe that will be alright. Just... please keep this quiet. We cannot have my father knowing anything of my meeting with Gunter." Felicia curtsied and left him alone in his study. What they were doing was dangerous. If his father found out that they were conspiring, the servants would be culled, Gunter could be sent out to die, and he would be beaten at the least. 

'We must be careful.'  
***

The sun peeked shyly from behind gray clouds, making steam rise from the ground. The storm had blown over, and the humidity was beginning to set in. Kamui tugged at her collar, wrinkling her nose at how it peeled away from her skin. She wasn't fond of wearing damp clothes, that much was certain. Anne chatted quietly with her through the carriage window, the pleasant idle chatter distracting her from her discomfort a little. It also kept her mind off of what would inevitable come later.

"I can't believe you're being forced to ride like a common soldier, Kamui! Why is the king making you do this? Our country has a military for these matters, do we not?" She asked suddenly. Kamui looked down into the girl's face, watching as she tried to piece it together herself.

"He... feels it is time for me to be tested in coping with difficult situations. All of us had to do something like this. It's a rite of passage, of sorts." Kamui said, bending the truth a little. She couldn't tell her that it was really a punishment for the first prince of their nation. Not here, anyway.

Kamui wasn't blind. He'd been leering at Marx the entire time, trying to make his son squirm for daring to disagree with him. Whatever Marx had said prior to that meeting, it had angered the king considerably, and while she knew it was her in the most direct danger, she feared for those she had to leave behind. It wouldn't be the first time Garon had purged the staff. What if he began rooting out those loyal to her and the others? What of Joker, Felicia and Flora? Were they in danger? If so, was there anything she or the others could do?

All this worry made her stomach twist painfully. She removed a glove and reached into her saddlebag, gently smoothing the piece of silk cloth between her fingers. If it wouldn't be so awkward, she'd gladly press the cravat to her nose and breathe. His scent would soothe her, at least a little. Sadly, she'd have to settle for the way the cloth felt between her finger for now. The coolness of the fabric and the way it glided against her fingers was calming, and unlike his strong arms, she could still think clearly. Perhaps she should keep this one, rather than returning it. He had several, he wouldn't miss one scrap of silk, surely.

"We should be arriving at the manor soon, Kamui. You can get out of those wet clothes and take a bath in my room, if you'd like. I'd like to show you around... there are many things in our duchy I think someone from the capital needs to see." Anne said. Kamui looked down at her friend, an eyebrow cocked in confusion.

"Such as?" Anne smiled sadly and shook her head.

"I'll tell you later. While I trust Master Burch, I'd rather keep it between us." Kamui nodded, looking at the horizon. Her rear hurt horribly, and every step Arlo took sent new aches up her spine. She would be feeling this for days, and it wasn't as though the suffering would end any time soon. She would be in this saddle for most of the time she was out here. She sighed miserably and watched the birds overhead. They were free to go where ever they may wish, unhindered by rules or borders. 

If she were a bird, she could be with them all the time, flitting away only when she had to, but always able to return. She could be with them all, even her lost family. She knew it was silly to dream in such ways. She had wings of her own, but she was not allowed to use them. Even Marx asked her not to use her dragonstone unless she had to. It was a last resort, something to be done only if she were out of options. she understood his reasoning, though. It wasn't meant to control her or keep her from doing what would make her happy. He wanted her to be able to protect herself with steel and wits alone.

"Oh look! We're coming upon civilization at last! This is the first town we've seen since leaving the capital, isn't it?" Anne asked, stretching her arms overhead. Kamui felt her heart drop as she looked ahead.

"Civilization" wasn't a word she'd use to describe this place. "Run down" and "a den of disease" were more apt descriptors. This little town looked like most people were either already dead or on their way out. 

"It only gets worse from here, until we reach the city." Anne said in a low tone. Kamui grimaced as they made their way through the gates. The people all but dove out of the way for them, and kept their heads down as if they were unworthy of looking upon them. The grip on Marx's cravat tightened to the point she feared she'd damage it, and wished for what felt like the hundredth time that it was his hand. 

It had been a few years since she'd left the capital and its few small surrounding towns. None looked like this. They all overflowed with the wealth of the capital, and the people all dressed finely, looking healthy and proud. The gentlemen wore silk ties and high shined shoes, and the ladies all carried lace parasols, their dainty hands covered by gloves. 

These people looked as thought they hadn't been acquainted with soap and water for the better half of a year, and their clothes fared little better. So this was what Marx meant when he said the majority of their people lived in squalor, was it? She'd never seen such destitution. She looked at the people as they rode by, noticing how all the children were working the fallow fields or drawing water from the well. There wasn't a playing child or smiling face to be seen.

"My gods, Anne... how have things gotten so bad?" She asked. Her friend sighed and shook her head.

"I don't know, really. The droughts followed by floods, the overworking of our land, the climate.. it's all of those things. Our people's spirits are dying, just as our land is." 

"Yes, I can see that now. Marx has spoken of small hamlets like this one, but this is the first time I've ever seen one." She grit her teeth, her resolve to remove Garon and his lackeys growing with each dirty, gaunt face she saw. How could he call himself a king, when he did nothing for people like these? He had no honor, no kindness, and no right to rule. They needed to act, and soon.  
***

The sound of his fingers drumming on the the table and the ticking of the clock were the only noise in his study. It was irksome and repetitive, and did nothing for his fraying nerves. Gunter should have returned by now, surely. It was getting late in the afternoon. Kamui would be reaching the Wendell's manor soon, if she wasn't there already. He wanted to get a plan brewing before the night ended, but his own mind was a jumble of thoughts that he couldn't pick apart. They mixed together in a haze, only ever looping back to Kamui. All else was a strange mishmash of worry, fear, and guilt. 

His real desire was to ride out immediately and rush to her side. He couldn't he knew, but it was what every fiber of his being yearned for. He stood from his chair and paced across the floor, back and forth. He couldn't be still if he wanted to. He'd tried to work, but to avail. He couldn't focus on the words in the documents long enough to glean anything useful from them, and even if he attempted to train in the yard, he'd be so distracted he'd just end up hurting himself.

He heaved a sigh and shoved a hand through his hair, swearing softly when his finger caught a tangle. If this was what it felt like for her when he had to leave her behind, then he'd be sure to apologize profusely when she returned. Perhaps he'd buy her some of those caramel candies she was fond of. He could take her out for a day in the city, and-- 

Two solid knocks on his door nearly made him yelp, and Kamui's butler didn't wait for an answer. He simply strode into the room, his gaze serious. Marx moved to straighten his cravat, instantly feeling foolish when he remembered he wasn't wearing one.

"Sir Gunter has arrived, My Lord. He has been summoned to His Majesty's study to deliver a report. You may still catch him if you hurry." Joker said. Without waiting for a reply, the man turned on his heel and closed the door behind him. He'd never been a particularly friendly man to anyone save Kamui, but Marx had never been fazed by the man's curtness. He was loyal and trustworthy, and that was enough. Marx took a deep breath and smoothed his hair at the mirror by the door before leaving. He knew Gunter couldn't speak with him immediately, but if he could catch him, he could at least secure an audience. 

He rushed down the hall, grateful that his long legs allowed for such a fast stride. If he were any shorter, he'd be running and that would arouse suspicion. As he entered the eastern vestibule, he nearly collided with the older man, who greeted him with an incline of his head and small smile.

"Where are you off to so fast, Your Highness? You nearly ran me down." Marx sighed and grabbed the man by his shoulders, looking him in the eyes.

"I need to speak with you after you finish speaking with my father. It's important." Gunter grunted and gave him a strangely hard look before nodding.

"Alright, boy. Meet me in the chapel in an hour. We'll be able to speak privately there." Marx gave a relieved sigh, stepping away with a nod. Gunter brushed by him and Marx turned to watch him leave. He'd always wondered something about the older man, but never bothered to ask. He doubted he'd ever get a straight answer, anyway. 

Sir Gunter had always kept his distance from him, even though he'd always been there. He'd been Kamui's guardian after all, which made him a guardian to them all in a way. He'd laugh when Camilla drug him around by his hand, wanting him to play with her, or kiss a scraped knee for Kamui. He'd been content to let Leon read by his side as the girls played. Elise could get away with murder as far as the old man was concerned.

For him, though? Nothing. He'd been stern and serious when he was a child, pushing him to try harder when he trained or studied. When he was finally able to escape the tutors for the day and join the others in the garden, the old knight stood far away. There was no room at his side for him to sit. No kisses for scrapes, no soothing words when things became too much. He never wanted to admit it, but the distance had stung. He'd wanted what the others had, but could never find it in himself to be jealous. 

Things eased over time, and the distance between them closed little by little, but even now there was a wall. They respected each other, they knew each other as comrades, as mentor and student, but not as men. There was no friendship, no closeness, no chance for him to glimpse the warmth the others had been shown. He turned away as the sound of his father's door snapping shut echoed down the hall. There was no use in standing there like a fool, reminiscing about the past. It was the present that needed his attention now.  
***

He hadn't been in the chapel for quite some time. He avoided the place when he could, uncomfortable with the smell of myrrh and the imagery of gods. Gods were too large and powerful for his liking. The priests paid him no mind as he sat in the back, letting his head fall forward to hang as if in prayer. He didn't pray, of course. He stopped praying when he was just a boy, his whimpered prayers going unanswered every time things became too painful.

Each time his mother would tear open a new wound in his young pride with her words, or his father would strip him of freedoms to make him focus on his duty, his faith in the gods died a little. They were all taught that the gods helped those who helped themselves, and only through strong character and force of will could they earn their favor, but what of those who had no power? 

Were children and the oppressed doomed to forever be treated as garbage? What kind of gods treated their faithful like ants beneath their heel? Why should someone thank them for pain and misery? Was hardship better for building character than a nurturing hand and wisdom rooted in kindness? He didn't think so. The differences between himself and Kamui were a testament to that. She shone like a beacon. He was but a shadow in her light.

The heavy sound of another person sitting beside him broke his illusion of prayer as he sat up to look at the man beside him. Gunter stared ahead, his face unreadable.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt your prayer." Marx shook his head.

"You interrupted nothing. I do not claim to hear the gods, and they do not hear me." Gunter smiled bitterly, watching a young altar boy going about his duties.

"That's a dangerous opinion, Your Highness. Most would be offended... though I find it refreshing. I don't think you're wrong to feel the way you do." Marx wasn't sure if he found that particularly reassuring, but at least he wouldn't get a lecture about how he 'must respect the gods.' 

"We should get started... Sir Gunter... I imagine you've noticed a particular presence lacking, yes?" Marx whispered, bowing his head once more.

"Lady Kamui is suspiciously absent, yes. I was going to ask you about that."

"Father has... sent her to the Wendell lands as a "test of her loyalty." She was made to go alone." Gunter sighed bitterly next to him, his jaw clenching and relaxing in a way that told him that anger was simmering just below the surface.

"And why would he do that, Your Highness?" He asked. Marx sighed.

"Because... he wishes to punish me. I... disagree with him." Gunter grunted and crossed his arms, looking at him from the corner of his eye.

"I see. So he's taking his anger out on our little bird, is he? Well, that just won't do. What do you propose we do about it?" 

"I... don't know. I was hoping you'd have an idea. I'm forbidden from following, and if I break father's rules... who knows what he'll do next." Gunter hummed quietly, bowing his head slightly.

"Yes, that's true. Your father does enjoy these little games, always has. Not to worry, though. I've been playing against the sick bastard for years, and he still hasn't realized I win more than I lose. You stay here like a good boy, and I'll do what I must to protect our dear little miss." Marx hated the sound of that. 'Stay like a good boy?' He was a grown man, and perfectly capable of protecting himself. His expression must have soured because the old man looked at him in annoyance.

Gunter hooked a finger under his circlet, tugging it so that the metal dug deeper into him, his wizened face set in a scowl. Marx winced as the pressure built in his temples and the sharper angles pressed against his brow. The thing was never intended to be comfortable, but this was nigh unbearable.

"Do as I say, just this once. Don't be stubborn, son. You want my help, so you shall have it, but don't make me regret this. Stay here and be the very picture of innocence, and let me take the blame. Understand?" When he didn't answer immediately, the old knight gave another tug, the pressure on his head making Marx hiss. "Understand?" He asked again, more forcibly.

"I... yes. Please let go." He was released immediately and Gunter stood to go, his footfalls fading quickly. Marx sat there dazed for a moment, surprised by Gunter's rough treatment. Despite never being close, he'd never been manhandled by the knight outside the training yard. He rubbed at his aching temples, sighing. Whatever the man chose to do was no longer his concern. He'd have to find a way to occupy himself while he waited. Once he was certain the man was long gone, he stood and made his exit before the smell made the aching in his head worse.  
***

It was awkward to be crammed around a small table in a bright, open windowed room with a family that was not her own. Anne sat beside her, eating quietly as her father spoke. Kamui looked down at her plate, wondering how they could afford to eat so grandly when the rest of their people were destitute. The food was decent, but Joker's cooking was far better. On her right, Anne's brother Andrew shifted in discomfort. He seemed just as disinterested in Duke Wendell's story.

"Anne, dearest. You say you plan to show Princess Kamui around our city?" Lady Wendell said, cutting through the Duke's chest thumping. The woman had the permanent expression that she'd sucked on a lemon. It must have been a side effect of dealing with such an unpleasant ass for a husband.

"Yes Mother." Lady Wendell nodded, looking at her husband.

"Darling, you should give them some money. There are plenty of lovely shops in town. They may see something they want." She suggested. Kamui scoffed, quickly covering it up as a cough. Beside her, Anne squeezed her hand under the table. The gentle curve of her smile told her she agreed.

"Ah, yes. I'm sure. Young ladies love nothing more than fine things. I'll leave you some coin with Haytham, daughter dear. Be sure to get it before leaving. Andrew, will you be going?" Andrew looked meaningfully at Anne, clearly asking if she wished him to come. She shook her head and he nodded.

"Not today, I think. The ladies will be fine, Father. Lady Kamui is a warrior of great skill, and Anne would admonish any ruffian so forcefully they'd leave forthwith." He smiled at his sister fondly, who rolled her eyes. It was nice to see that those two seemed to get along.

"Thank you Father. If you'll excuse us, I'd like to get there and back before it becomes too late." Upon receiving permission to leave, they stood and Anne lead her back to her private chamber by the hand. 

As the door clicked shut, her new friend turned to face her, her mouth twisted in an odd grimace. Kamui tilted her head in silence, waiting patiently for Anne to gather her thoughts.

"Let's change out of these dresses. I've some trousers and blouses I believe will fit you if you need to make use of anything. What I have to show you isn't... suited for ladies of high standing." Kamui nodded and together, they stripped themselves of the trappings of nobility. The jodhpurs Anne loaned her fit well, but were a little long in the leg. Reluctantly, she shoved her feet back into the riding boots she'd worn all day. Anne let her thick, honey colored hair down from it's curled coiffure, rubbing at her scalp with a sigh.

"You have such lovely hair, Anne. I'm a bit envious." Her friend turned to face her, a smile on her face. Looking at her now that she knew her, Anne was an incredibly lovely girl. 

"Oh but yours is so unique! I love it, so please don't be envious... but... thank you. It's my pride, I'll admit. Would you braid it for me?" Kamui smiled and stepped forward, gently combing her fingers through the soft strands before plaiting it simply. "Here, I shall do yours now. It wouldn't do for us to attract too much attention."  
***

Arlo was too tired from their trek to be taken out once more, so the stable hand Anne had called Marcus had prepared another mount for her. The mare flicked her ears and lowered her head in a request for affection, reminding Kamui of an overly large dog. She scratched her ears and gently stroked her velvety nose, speaking quietly as Anne conversed with Marcus. Judging by her serious expression and the way he leaned close, it was important. He smiled at her kindly and handed her the reins of her own mount before walking briskly away.

Kamui swung herself up into the saddle with a resigned sigh and Anne did the same, settling into the saddle as if it were more natural to her than breathing. She nodded and together, they made their way out of the stables and down the long drive towards the dirt path that would lead them back into town. 

"Marcus knows where we will be, and will meet us at the stable in a few hours to escort us home. Now, will you tell me the true reason you were sent here alone? I may not be entirely aware of the situation in the palace, but I can see that things are far from ideal." Kamui sighed. Perhaps speaking with a friend on the matter would help. 

"The King is... punishing Marx." 

"Whatever for? Lord Marx has always seemed like a perfect prince, to me." Kamui laughed bitterly.

"While I agree wholeheartedly, the King does not. Marx disagrees with something the King has recently brought to our attention."

"Such as?" Anne's voice wavered slightly. It was clear to Kamui that her friend had a theory.

"He intends to declare war on Hoshido... or perhaps just attack them without provocation is more appropriate." Anne sighed and looked ahead at the barren land.

"I feared as much. How careless. I imagine Lord Marx takes grievance with the effect it will have on the people and land." Kamui nodded and gripped the reins tighter. "Do you... have any opinion on this?"

"Yes. Hoshido is my homeland, I cannot abide such a cowardly man. If I had a choice, he'd not be a king much longer." Anne hummed quietly, a smile curving her lips.

"So... would you consider ridding our country of him?" She asked, her voice strangely flippant for a woman who just suggested assassinating a king.

"Anne?" Her friend looked at her, her blue eyes serious.

"I told you I had something to show you, Kamui. You thought that small town was bad? Wait until you see our slums. I could not be more serious about wanting to rid our nation of Garon and the puffed up pustules like him. Their ways are old, stale, and they are destroying us." Kamui nodded. She was not wrong. Not in the slightest. This was no different than any conversation she and her family had under their tree in the garden, while dreaming about the future.

"He plans to speak with his supporters at the upcoming salon. Will you be there?" Anne nodded, her mouth grim. It felt as though there was something hanging in the air between them. Anne seemed to be thinking hard on something, as her thin brows furrowed almost as fiercely as Marx's.

"What if... I told you I had a contact in Hoshido?" Her friend asked. Her voice was small and hesitant, but Kamui heard her perfectly. "I could send word... or even arrange for a diplomatic meeting..." Kamui's heart raced in her chest. This was the perfect chance for her to see her family again, while also possibly avoiding the worst.

"Send me. I have family... powerful family. In fact... they are the very people that need to know the most." Anne stilled in her saddle, staring ahead.

"What are you saying, Kamui?"

"That I am the daughter of Mikoto and the late King Sumeragi. Garon had my father murdered right before my eyes and kept me as a pet ever since." It felt good to say it aloud. She'd never been able to tell anyone before. Not even Joker or Felicia knew the extent of her prisoner status.

"That... makes a lot more sense now that I think of it. You have a real reason for wanting the pig dead. Yes... this is actually perfect. Ah. We've arrived... let us set our treason aside for now and speak of it more later. I will give thought to this."  
***

The horses were left with the gruff stable master, and Anne pressed a few more coins than necessary into his gnarled hand, smiling sweetly. As he stuttered and stared at the gold in his palm, Anne lead Kamui away down a back alley. 

"When we get down there, be prepared for anything. These people are starving and miserable, but try not to think harshly on them. Our people have not seen kindness in many years." Kamui nodded gripping the hilt her sword. Anne lead her down a few more backstreets before they reached a flight of stairs leading down into the poor district of the city.

The buildings here were shabby at best, their windows boarded in or missing entirely. Some doors were falling from their hinges, and rooves sagged pitifully under the stress of water damage and age. The streets were littered with refuse, making Kamui infinitely grateful for the boots she wore, despite their discomfort. It smelled of blood and death and the air buzzed with the sound of insects, punctuated by the sound of a fille de joie plying her trade. This was a different world than any she'd ever seen, but Anne looked more at home than she would have ever thought.

"Do you see how our poor live, Kamui? This is a good day. Normally you'd see at least one child lying dead in these shit filled streets, and a guardsman stepping over a bleeding, weeping prostitute as he saunters back into decency after doing as he pleased with her." Kamui crossed her arms over her chest, feeling dirty just knowing the things that happened here.

"How do you know these things, Anne?" Her friend smiled grimly.

"Because I come here often to feed our beggars. It is how I know Nohr. Parties and whispered conspiracies teach you nothing. You only learn Nohr through seeing her true face. This is it. This is the nation the warmongers are so proud of. A nation of starving children and mothers with no food to give them. A nation of good men forced to banditry and murder for scraps. Nohr is brutal, cruel, and rotting from within. She is a diseased whore that dies a little more each time a new man forces his wishes onto her." 

Kamui looked into the dim light and shivered. She'd never been allowed to see just how awful things were. Even Marx had sugarcoated the image, making it a little less painful for her. Anne did no such thing. She stared hard at the scene before her, willing herself to burn it into her memory, thankful to the other woman for treating her as an adult. 

"Anne... you seem to have a plan." Her friend hummed and motioned for her to follow. Kamui did as she was asked with no questions asked. They made their way between a dilapidated apothecary shop and a cobbler, winding their way deeper into the slums. They finally came to a stop in front of a building of white stone, its walls covered in creepers of ivy, and flower boxes in its windows.

"Welcome to the Sleeping Siren. I know the Madame here quite well... she's helped me ever since I first began these forays into Nohr's underbelly. She can give us a safe place to talk." A brothel, then. What would Marx say if he knew she'd been in a place like this? Would he be angry? Gods... had he ever been in a brothel before? The thought of that bothered her more than it should.

Anne brought her around the back and knocked in a triplet, stepping back as the door opened. A buxom woman stood in the doorway, her ample bosom hoisted high by a tight corset. Her short bloomers showed off her frilly garters, and accentuated her stunning legs. Her crimson painted mouth curled into a large, toothy smile.

"Good evening, Maxime. We need a private room, we've something important to chat about." Maxime chuckled, the sound velvety and sweet. Camilla would be most impressed by this woman's practiced allure.

"Of course, Kitten. Only the best for my dear Anne. Do come in, I shall escort you myself." Anne nodded and took Kamui by the hand, pulling her into the building. The rich red wallpaper was peeling from the walls in places, but it was covered well by old tapestries or second hand paintings. For a brothel in a slum, it was actually quite nice. 

They followed Maxime up a flight of stairs and down an empty hallway. Kamui blushed as she clearly heard the sound of a woman in the throes of passion, followed by a low, guttural moan. Anne didn't seem bothered by the debauchery around them in the least. "Here we are, my little Rosebuds. Take your time." She said, winking.

Anne pulled her into the room and locked it behind them. Kamui looked around the room, trying not to think too hard about all the people who had been bedded here. She also tried not to look at all the phallic items laying about, their purpose not lost on the young princess.

"There's no need to look so embarrassed, Kamui. I realize a bordello isn't the most ladylike place to be, but there is no place better at keeping your secrets. Now then. You wish to hear my plan, but first... I must know more of your task here and why the King wants you out of the capital." Kamui refocused on her friend and nodded.

"As I said, my being here is punishment. He wishes for me to hunt down and slay a bandit here at your father's supposed request. I am to do so alone." Anne frowned and paced to the window, looking out into the night.

"So... you're to hunt down Samael, huh? How pointless..." Kamui shrugged. It wasn't her idea. "No, you misunderstand. Samael is... not what I'd call a bandit. He and his band don't raid villages or rape poor women in their beds at night. They attack carriages flying noble colors. They aren't trying to hurt the common folk, but the rich. That's why father and the King want him gone. He's hurting their coin purses. What were your orders?"

"Kill this Samael and bring Garon something to prove him dead." Anne hummed and picked lint off her sleeve before nodding.

"I shall go with you, then. If all goes well, we won't even have to draw our blades. If not... then the odds are better with two rather than one. Perhaps even Andrew will go." Kamui shook her head.

"The King was adamant. I'm sure your father will be watching very closely and will tell him about anything unusual." Anne chuckled and shook her head.

"Peace, Kamui. I didn't say I would make it so obvious. When do you plan on departing on this fool's errand?" 

"Early in the morning... I fear for my family and friends in the capital. I feel as if something horrible may happen." Anne nodded.

"Then I shall set out for some frivolous adventure later in the morning. Perhaps to 'have tea with a friend.' I shall meet you somewhere and we will continue together. You must understand... all these years, I've played the coquette with a head empty as a flowerpot. My parents think I'm an idiot, dear friend." Kamui laughed, shaking her head. Anne really was a wonder. She wasn't sure her pride would let her play the clueless girl. "Andrew will be able to come and go freely without worry. Father and Mother think him the perfect son. Really though, he and I have both been sneaking out to make good with the poor. Let us help you, and all will be well, I swear it."

Kamui nodded, sighing in relief. She'd been terrified of the notion of doing this alone. Even if she used her dragonstone, there would only be so much she could do against superior numbers. Knowing that things were not exactly as they seemed also made her feel better... hopeful even. If Samael could be reasoned with, then she could return home... maybe even with allies.

"I've told you my tale, Anne. Now tell me yours."  
***

As the final melancholy notes drifted into nothingness, Marx sighed. He'd not touched the harpsichord in a while. He didn't really like playing it, but it was a good way to keep his hands occupied and his mind busy. He looked at the sheet of music in front of him and wished he wasn't alone. Elise's violin or Camilla's dulcet soprano would have been a welcome companion. This wasn't really a piece meant to be played alone, but had always been one of his favorites. Shaking his head, he closed the lid and threw the cover back over the aged instrument. It was getting late and his mind was wandering. It was time to retire.

His chambers were separate from the rest of his family, and while he often felt alienated, there were nights he was grateful for the distance. He didn't want to talk to anyone tonight. They'd share their worries and his would only mount if he listened. He wasn't sure he could deal with one more concern heaped onto the mountain he carried on his own shoulders. He sighed thankfully as the door closed with a sharp 'click' behind him, his head resting against the dark wood. 

He regarded his four poster bed and its dark maroon curtains in the dimness before pushing away from the door to begin undressing. His bed was too large for him. He hated waking alone, with no hand to hold or hair in his face. He placed his boots by his desk to clean and polish later before moving on to his shirt and trousers. Normally, he'd take a bath before turning in, but tonight it just seemed pointless. He stretched and sighed, shivering slightly in the cool air. 

He missed the days when Kamui would come crawling into his bed after a nightmare or because he'd be leaving the next day. It was inappropriate now, of course. They were adults, and she was beautiful. He'd always thought she was lovely, but now... he coveted her, he wanted to keep her by his side as a miser kept his last coin. It was wrong, and he had no right, but it didn't make it any less true. He crawled beneath his covers and turned down the gas lamp at his bedside, casting his room in complete darkness.

He closed his eyes and willed himself to fall asleep, but the worry racing through his mind wouldn't let him rest. He tossed a moment, shoving his head under his pillow with a curse. Why did she have to be the one that bastard sent? He loved all of his family, and would worry for them, certainly.... but she was different. His heart was hers to do with as she wished. No other could have it. With a resigned sigh, he shifted once again onto his back.

What would it be like to have her here with him? If he thought hard enough, he could imagine her scent and the feel of her fingertips in his hair. If he thought a little harder, he could almost imagine her lips against his own, those beautiful fingers teasing him with promises of pleasure. He bit his lip at the sweet ache in his groin. He hated this part of himself. He hated how he desired her, as if any man was good enough to taste her kiss or discover the sweetness of her body. He groaned as his mind conjured the image of her in that sinful, pale lavender dress. It had hugged her slim waist so perfectly, and displayed her supple bosom so proudly that he'd nearly swallowed his tongue when he'd seen her.

With her hair the way it was, he'd been able to appreciate her slender neck and pointed ears and his mouth watered at the notion of biting and kissing the pale expanse of skin so shamelessly bared. He hadn't wanted any other man to look at her, let alone touch. He wanted to mark that skin and declare her his and whisper all the wondrous filth his mind conjured into those ears. He wanted to feel her heart pounding against his chest as he kissed her, her fingers tangled in his hair. 

He wanted to hear her panting as he knelt between her legs, his mouth put to something more useful than speaking and hands busy with something other than war. He became acutely aware of his body as every nerve stood on edge, tingling as his mind conjured her phantom fingers on his neck, his chest, his thighs. His own hand tugged his underwear out of the way, letting his aching cock spring free. He shuddered as the sensitive head brushed the sheets, which he pushed out of the way. He took himself in his hand, thumb stroking across the head, finding himself already slick with precum. 

He smoothed his hand down the shaft, keeping his pace agonizingly slow, gasping as his muscles tensed. In his mind, he could see her over him, her lips swollen from his kisses, crimson eyes blazing with desire as she stroked him. He moaned softly, his head falling back as he brushed the head again, wishing it were her tongue. He was trembling now, his desperation mounting as he envisioned her straddling his hips, grinding herself against him, beautiful sounds tearing themselves from her throat, breasts bouncing deliciously as she rode him. He whimpered and picked up the pace as his need grew.

In his minds eye, he could see her smile and bite her lip as she leaned over him to kiss him, their tongues tangling as their hips rocked, her cries growing louder as she neared climax. His breathing hitched as he let himself imagine her purring sweet words in his ear. A low, desperate whine tore itself through his control as he slowed the pace again to prolong the time he had. Oh, how he'd beg her to let him finish. He would play the most wanton whore for her, if she wished. He would do anything to please her. He felt tears prick the corners of his eyes as the pleasure became nearly torturous, his desire to thrash and buck his hips overwhelming him. He couldn't take it any longer.

Biting the fleshy part of his hand between his thumb and forefinger, he set a demanding pace, his sanity reaching its limit. The flesh in his mouth muffled his desperate moans as they grew in volume. His back arched off the mattress as a violent shudder ripped through him and he cried out in rapture as he finally reached his peak, hot cum spilling over his knuckles and onto his stomach. He lay there shivering and panting, his clean hand covering his eyes. His hair was damp with sweat and his limbs felt like jelly, but his mind was clear for the first time that day.

He heaved a sigh, wrinkling his nose at the feeling of his cooling seed on his skin. This was by far the worst part of pleasuring himself. The mess was disgusting. He forced himself to sit up and stand. His legs wobbled dangerously, the effects of his orgasm still quite evident. He was still sensitive to touch, and he felt oddly fragile, as if he'd fall apart if someone spoke too loudly. He blinked as he entered his private bath, turning the gas lamp near the door up so that he could see. He found a rag and cleaned himself up, avoiding his gaze in the mirror. He didn't want to see his flushed face and heavy lidded gaze.

Now that his mind returned to him, he felt nothing but shame and guilt for what he'd just done. Kamui trusted him and loved him as a brother. How could he betray her in such a way? What sort of sinful degenerate was he? He'd been so good about avoiding this, keeping his mind occupied with politics and concerns rather than her perfect skin or rosy lips. He kept her from embracing him for too long, or too tightly. Their bodies pressed together made him think too much about kissing her, whispering how he loved her in her ear. Usually he could distance himself from those feelings, but today... they'd hit him all at once. 

That morning when she'd embraced him, her cheek pressed sweetly against his chest and dainty fingers curling into his shirt, all his love and desire came clawing its way through his restraint. He'd wanted to embrace her fiercely and take her away from his father, from Nohr, from duty and pain. When she'd requested he give her his cravat, his heart had lurched in his chest. His mind ran wild with the idea that it was him that made her think of home. He made her feel so safe and secure that she wanted something of his. The thought of her pressing it to her nose and breathing in his scent had made him giddy and weak in the knees.

He knew her intentions were innocent, of course. She hadn't been thinking anything crass when she'd said those words. The love in her eyes wasn't the same as what he felt. As far as he was concerned, she'd remain innocent and pure her entire life, even if he knew that to be rubbish. She was a grown woman and in full command of her own life and body... but it made it easier for him to keep his hands to himself if he didn't think about it. 

He shoved a hand through his hair with a sigh, grousing at the sweat he'd worked up. A bath would be for the best, but he was tired. He could bathe in the morning, when he'd hopefully have his head back on straight.  
***

Rapid knocking at his door woke him from his fitful sleep. With a miserable groan, Marx forced himself to stand, shoving on his robe. He cracked the door and was met with a tearful, concerned Camilla. He blinked blearily at her, his tired mind trying to comprehend the situation until she threw herself bodily into his chest, a sob wracking her body.

"Sister?! What's wrong? What happened?" He asked, draping his arms over her protectively. It had been a long time since he'd seen his little sister so distressed. Her fingers gripped the front of his robe so viciously he feared she'd tear it from his shoulders.

"I-it's Ellie! She's gone!" The world seemed to grind to a halt as he attempted to process her words, the meaning to them unclear. 

"Gone? Gone where? Camilla, please. Explain yourself." She looked up at him, violet eyes desperate as her lips trembled.

"She's gone after Kamui, Marx. She left sometime after we'd all gone to bed." She said, another sob breaking through her control. Marx felt as if he'd been doused in ice water. Gods... how could things get any worse. He put his hands on his sister's shoulders, his jaw tightening. Now was not the time to panic.

"Camilla, we must be strong now. I will go find her. I need you and Leon to remain here and try to keep Father occupied while I do. Do you understand?" Camilla looked ready to argue, so he shook his head. "No, Pumpkin. I will not let anyone else incur Father's wrath. I love you all too much to let him harm you. Try to keep him distracted if you can, but do not lie to him. Tell him I went to retrieve Elise. No more, no less. I shall return with our little sister, I swear it." Camilla pursed her lips, nodding seriously.

"Alright, dear brother. Come back safe. Father will not even know you're gone. I'll make sure of it."


	4. Worth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon rushes to catch Elise and bring her home safely, and in the process; discovers that things are not entirely as they seem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--Warning--  
> Descriptions of past child abuse, some death, and some blood.

"Brother! You can't be serious." Leon's voice echoed down the hall as he strode angrily after his elder brother. "Father told you specifically that you must remain here! If you disobey--"

"I know. I know, Leon. I could very well be punished, but I cannot let Elise run off alone." Marx's voice was even, but Leon could hear him straining against his emotions. He was not nearly as good an actor as he thought.

"Then stay here, and let someone else go. I will take Harold and Elfie to retrieve her." Leon said, catching his brother's cloak in his fist.

"Absolutely not. You are hardly old enough to go traipsing around the country side alone."

"I wouldn't be alone! Besides. I'm hardly defenseless." Marx turned on the spot, his eyes hard. Leon had never had such a stern glare directed at him, but he couldn't afford to be cowed. Not this time.

"I said no. You will remain here and keep father distracted with Camilla. She will need your help." Leon ground his teeth. Why was he being so stubborn? His brother had always been the reasonable sort who would take advice as well as he gave it. Where had this self-destructive need to do everything alone come from?

"Marx... if you insist on going alone, then you will have to get through me first. I don't intend to make it easy." His brother frowned deeply, his thin brows pulling down so severely that they nearly touched in the center.

"We do not have time for petty arguing, or idle threats. If you intend to fight me, be done with it and let me be off. I will hear your thoughts when I return." Leon seethed at those words. He would not let anyone underestimate him, brother or no.

"Don't be so certain. I've gotten stronger, Brother. I'm not the little boy you used to knock around the training yard." Marx looked ready to say something as he grasped the hilt of his sword, but movement in the hall behind him distracted him. Seconds later, he slumped forward; limp and lifeless.

"Well. That was easier than I expected." Joker said, the staff in his hand still glowing a faint blue. "Shouldn't you be off? I'm not sure how long this will last." He said, his tone flippant.

"... Is he okay?" Leon asked, nudging his brother's armored shoulder with the toe of his boot. Tiny, halting snores filled the quiet space as the butler studied the eldest prince with vague disinterest.

"Probably. I'll tend to this stubborn ass. Get going." He didn't need to be told twice. He didn't want to be within striking range when his brother woke, he was bound to be livid.  
***  
"Master Leon, I've sent birds to my "friends" in every town between here and Holmsfirth. They'll have their eyes open, but I can't guarantee that they've seen anything." Zero said, urging his mount forward.

"Good, thank you. You didn't see anything before she left?" Leon asked, checking the fit of his tassets before mounting.

"Come now, Master. You know he only has one good eye. It can't look everywhere at once." Odin said, leading his own horse to stand beside Zero's. The thief grumbled and glared down at the mage.

"If you don't shut up I'll--"

"Enough! We don't have time to squabble. We've a long ride ahead of us. I want the two of you to ride out ahead, keep an eye out for anything suspicious. As for the two of you, you'll bring up the rear." Harold nodded, his face serious. Elfie said nothing, looking only at her hands. Leon could see how they shook, telling him she had a death grip on her reins. 

"You two best hope nothing happens to the Prince. I'll see to your deaths myself if you fail him, too." Zero said, his eye narrowing venomously. Normally, he'd never let his servants speak to his little sister's retainers like that, but they'd made a grave misstep. He was far from pleased with them.  
They said nothing in response, but it was clear the message was received. Leon groaned internally, suddenly all too aware that this was going to be a very long, awkward trip.  
***  
"Mama? Why are you crying?" Marx asked, searching his pockets for a handkerchief. His mother didn't answer at first, merely continuing to sniffle and sob. "Mama?" She waved a dismissive hand at him over her shoulder, refusing to look at him.

"Don't you have better things to do than pester me, boy?" She snapped, her voice thick as fat tears rolled down her reddened cheeks.

"Mama?" Her broken sobs turned his stomach. His mama shouldn't ever cry. 

"Gods, begone! Leave me be, you little demon. Must you torture me at every turn? Do I not suffer enough?" Had he done something wrong? He couldn't think of anything.  
Finally, she turned towards him fully and he saw the angry bruises adorning her pale cheek, the swelling of her blue eye, and the bloodied lip. Around her were pieces of broken glass and a broken candle. She and Father had fought once more. 

"This is your fault! If I'd never bore you, this wouldn't happen to me!" She yowled, the misery plain in her voice.  
He felt tears sting his eyes. His mama was always harsh, even when she loved him, but she was hurt and crying. If she said it was his fault, then it must have been. He didn't mean to hurt her. He loved his mama. Ashamed of whatever he'd done wrong this time, he lowered his head.

"I'm sorry, Mama. I won't do it again." With a wretched cry, his mother lashed out and struck him hard across the cheek. He stumbled and fell; his hands catching him, saving his face and eyes from the glass littering the floor. Blood oozed out from his shredded palms and tears poured down his cheeks while his mother staggered to her feet. 

"Look at the mess you're making, boy! Another thing I shall answer for, no doubt! You're nothing but a burden." She hissed. She yanked him to his feet by his elbows, ripping the scarf from around her neck. She inspected the cuts as he cried and whimpered apologies as she wrapped the cloth around his hands. "Go fetch your nanny. I've got too much to do, I can't be bothered with you."  
~~  
A cool cloth dabbing at his forehead and gentle humming greeted him as he jerked awake, a sheen of cold sweat on his face and neck. He cast a wild look around, his eyes landing on Camilla as she sat back in her chair.

"Ah. Good, you've woken. I was beginning to worry about you, Brother dearest." She said, her tone soft.

"What the hell happened?" He moaned, covering his eyes. His whole body ached, but it was his head that brought him the most misery.

"I did." Joker's smooth voice intoned. Through pained eyes, Marx glanced at the butler who was currently pouring tea. "I used a sleep staff."

"You would dare--"

"I would dare to do much more. Had you left, ill could have befallen you, either by ruffians on the road or the king. If something were to happen to you, Lady Kamui would be upset. I cannot abide her tears, so I took the possibility away. Would you rather I smash a vase over your head next time?" Marx groaned and draped an arm across his eyes to block out the light.

"Now, Brother. There's no need to be angry with Joker. I asked him to stop you." Camilla said.

"Where's Leon?" 

"Prince Leon left four hours ago." Joker said, placing a cup of steaming tea on the bedside table. "This will help with the aches."

"Thank you, Joker. I'll take it from here."

"Of course, Lady Camilla. Perhaps you can teach your brother to think outside the present. He may find it useful." Camilla tittered as the door snapped shut and the walking font of vitriol left them.  
Marx struggled to sit up, and Camilla helped, her gentleness jarring after the raw memory of his mother. As he eased back onto his pillows, his sister worried her lip.

"You were having a nightmare?" She asked. He nodded, unable to deny that it was anything else. He'd not thought of those early days in a very long time. He'd been four at most when that had happened. Camilla was still a baby and not yet part of his family. He'd been alone in those days. "Tell me?"

"There's nothing to tell. I was simply remembering Mother." Camilla fell silent, her violet eyes becoming distant. He knew she had nothing but contempt for his mother, and he didn't blame her... but she was his mother regardless. He tried to think as fondly of her as he could, she'd been just as much a victim of his father's cruelty as he. 

"Well. You don't need to think about her anymore, Brother. She's gone, and got her comeuppances." He only hummed in response, deciding to reach for his tea instead. He disliked this topic. There were too many unanswered questions surrounding those... comeuppances.

Silence filled the room as Camilla picked up her needlework, a falsely contented sigh slipping through her lips. It had been a long time since they'd sat together like this, and Marx couldn't help but feel a bit pleased. If only the others were there as well... he'd be as happy as she pretended to be.

"Brother?" He looked at her, no longer used to hearing her sounding so vulnerable. The needlework in her hands shook and she put it down with an irritated sigh. "I'm worried." He chuckled and sipped the bitter tea Joker had left him.

"As am I... but our hands are tied. We'll have to leave it up to Leon now."  
***  
Leon fought down the dueling emotions roiling away in his stomach. Worry, fear and doubt all ate at him in equal measure, but he had too much to prove to turn back. His choosing to race after Elise was not entirely to save Marx from their Father's ire, but also for a less noble purpose.  
He was tired of being treated like a child by the elder three. Had he not trained? Had he not been drilled on tactics, combat and geography? He spent more time behind a book hoping to learn something useful than doing much else, and yet they still insisted that he was too young to be of use?  
Piss on that. He would prove that he was not as helpless as they thought, and perhaps then they'd stop coddling him so much. Perhaps if he could prove to them that he knew how to handle himself, Marx would let him take some of the burden off of him. And if the burden was lessened... they could see about actually doing something useful with their time rather than gritting their teeth as their father bled the nation dry. 

"Prince Leon?" Odin's voice cut through the morning air, pulling him from his thoughts. "One of Zero's birds has returned! We may have some information on the princess!" 

"Excellent! Zero?" The thief scanned the letter, frowning deeply before looking up.

"She was spotted resting in Rorstein. It's a little mud filled shit hole about an hour and a half from here. If we hurry, we may catch her. If not, then we'll just keep moving. They're doing their best to waylay her without making a scene."

"Good. Thank you, Zero. Elfie, Harold!" They both snapped to attention in their saddles, meeting his gaze warily.

"I'll leave her safety to you. Perhaps we can all come out of this unscathed in the end." They nodded and remained silent. While he was displeased with them, he didn't wish them ill. Especially not if it were brought at his father's hand. He hazarded a glance in Elfie's direction, a frown on his face. He hated to ponder what his father would do to such a delicate looking girl. His father was not one to waste a woman's youth under the whip. If he didn't think of something, she'd end up another concubine in his father's harem, and Harold would be lucky to escape with his life.  
With luck, he could convince his father not to do them harm. Even the whippings he gave to soldiers and servants that failed were horrific. His father loved doling out punishment almost as much as he loved collecting concubines from among the unmarried girls in conquered lands. His skin crawled at the thought, but without his father's harem; he, Camilla and Elise would not be there. Marx would never have had a sibling, and may not have grown to be the man he knew. Perhaps he would have broken under their father's heel and become the tyrant he was always pushed to be. 

He squinted as the rising sun broke momentarily through the clouds. He had to wonder if Kamui was all right. No doubt she'd be rising soon if she hadn't already, preparing for what could be a life or death battle. He didn't begrudge Elise her desire to chase after her and offer what aid she could. Now that he was out of the castle, he couldn't say that the idea of just collecting Elise and continuing on with his entourage wasn't appealing. It would be fruitless though. He'd never make it in time to be of any help. 

Surely Elise would have known that. She was young and naive, not stupid. He didn't want to think that she would do this as a means to draw them out of the palace, but why else? Perhaps she'd done this as an act of rebellion? Surely she wouldn't. Elise had been sheltered from most of their father's cruelty. She'd never had his anger come down on her like the eldest three, or even himself. No. Elise would not do something like this so deliberately. She'd simply run off without thinking of the consequences. Her only thought had been to get to Kamui. That had to be it.  
He sighed and kept his eyes on the road ahead. He would just have to ask her when he caught up at this point. There was little point in trying to guess another person's thoughts. People, even ones as gentle and good as Elise were rarely as simple as they seemed. Everyone had the capacity for ulterior motives. This entire venture was proof of that.  
***  
Rorstein came into view and Leon sat up straighter in his saddle, trying to get a good look at his surroundings. Zero hadn't been lying about it. It was a miserly little place, and its people were little better. They all walked about with their heads bowed under the weight of poverty and disease. All he could hope was that Elise was still there, and that they could be gone from it soon. He'd rarely seen such a pitiful place with his own eyes, but Zero had always painted him a vivid image of Nohr's true face when asked.

"We'll begin by asking around. If she's been through here, someone would have seen her. Even if she were to dress plainly, she'd stand out in a place like this." Leon said, dismounting. "Elfie, Harold; I leave the horses to you. Elfie, speak with the stable master while you're there. See if he knows anything."

"Yes, Milord." She murmured. He ignored how his heart stumbled on a beat when their hands touched. It was nothing he should be concerned with at present. He had more important issues to attend to. He looked to the men behind him, arranging his thoughts.

"Harold, check the inn once you finish helping her hitch the horses. Speak with both patrons and workers. Odin... keep the theatrics to a minimum and speak with the shop keepers. Zero and I will meet with his contact. If anyone finds something, come find me immediately." They split off, heading towards their assigned area quickly.  
Against his will, Leon found his eyes drawn towards Elfie's retreating back. A raspy chuckle behind him made him shoot a withering glare over his shoulder; and as usual, the thief was not deterred.

"You should tell her." Zero drawled, a lecherous grin spreading onto his face; his single blue eye twinkling in mischief. 

"Tell her what, exactly?"

"That you like how her ass looks in those pants, probably. I have to admit, she is a charming little lady. I could give you some advice if you--"

"Enough of your ridiculous prattle. We've work to do." Zero sighed and raised his hands in a placating manner, though the waggery expression didn't fade. One day, he would teach the sneaky bastard to behave appropriately. "Take me to him."  
***  
Elfie entered the darkened barn, squinting into the musty shade for any sign of movement. Her ears strained for sounds other than the sleepy breathing of horses, but found little evidence of humans.  
'How peculiar.' She thought. Left with no other recourse, she called aloud; hoping to attract attention. A muffled scuffing sound from the back of the barn drew her attention to a pair of scruffy children, crouching nervously amidst the straw.

"There, there. I assure you I mean no harm. I'm looking for someone." One of the boys; the older of the two if she had to guess, crept closer. She could tell he was dirty and far too thin, even in the murkiness of the filthy barn, but his eyes were alert. He reminded her of herself as a child, when she begged her bread on the streets.

"Are you a knight?" He asked, his sharp eyes locking onto her armor. She smiled and let her shoulders relax a bit. All children loved tales of knights and princes in gleaming armor, especially the poor ones. It gave them something to hope for.

"I am. I'm here on very important business, and I need help. Maybe the two of you could lend me your aid." The older of the boys looked back to the younger, waving him forward. Elfie's heart ached to see them standing side by side, so small and thin that a breeze would knock them off their feet; but the little waifs were eager.

"Yes'm! We'll help 'ya howe're we can!" 

"Thank you. I'll make sure you're properly rewarded. What are your names, little ones?" 

"I'm Conner! Thisun's my lil' brother Seamus, Ma'am." Elfie made note of which child was which before gesturing them to come closer. They did as she asked and crept nearer, trying to hide the way they looked at her armor and the lance she held.

"Listen to me carefully. Did either of you see a young lady come through here? She'd be about this tall, with long blonde hair. She'd most likely have had a healing staff. What say you?" The boys looked at each other, and Seamus wrung his hands nervously before nodding.

"Yes'm. We saw someone like that. She was pretty and very nice! She gave us food and told us stories to help us sleep. Our grandpa let her sleep in the loft... but she ain't there now. Miss... we think she's in trouble."  
***  
Flies and the stench of death greeted them instead of an informant. Zero swore and shoved a hand through his hair. Leon looked at the man laying in the dirt before kneeling cautiously beside him. His studies of anatomy would serve them well here, but he'd never examined a corpse before, and the smell was nothing to joke about.

"He can't have been dead for more than a few hours, and yet he's already smelling... he shouldn't be so fragrant yet." Zero said, wrinkling his nose. "And look at him. Bloated already."

"Help me turn him over." The thief did as he was asked and together, they rolled the hulking cadaver onto its back, allowing them a good look at his face. His face was set in a look of sheer terror, his mouth open as though screaming, but as Leon searched him for signs of what killed him, he found him strangely unharmed. "No wounds from a weapon or spell... but I can feel some residual magic in the area. A curse then... our killer was a mage."

"Can you find them?" Zero asked, ruffling through the man's clothes; checking his pockets and pouches. Leon pursed his lips as he thought about it. He had been trained to follow another mage's trail, but it didn't work the same way with curses. Curses were silent killers, like poison. They didn't leave trails to be followed, and only saturated the immediate area; and this one left a dense, heavy miasma that left him feeling tired. Even if he could follow it, he'd succumb to exhaustion within an hour.

"No, I fear not. All I can say is that the mage is knowledgeable in curses... I could; maybe, gain some insight from the corpse... but I don't like the idea of it. Necromancy is not illegal, but it is frowned upon."

"Well, so is murder; but whoever did this didn't seem to mind all that much." Leon pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation, sighing heavily as he felt a headache coming on

"Murder is illegal, Zero."

"Only if you get caught." The prince shook his head, once again mystified that he trusted this man enough to watch his back. 

"I'll need to prepare, and there's a few things I need from my satchel. We should check on the others first, and see if they've had more luck before we commit to this." He said, finally rising. 

"What if someone moves the body? Our mage may have had accomplices. I will stay here, you can check with the others." 

"No. I'd rather risk losing a dead man than a living one." Zero sighed, his usual smarmy grin slipping away.

"Master Leon, I know it isn't my place, but I'm afraid I have to insist. I will be fine, I swear it; but we must find the princess and return home. So far, this is our best chance." Leon knew he was right. He knew it, and yet the idea of losing one who had been so loyal frightened him. Zero and Odin had never been simple pawns to him, but people who lived and breathed, and laughed. They had been friends when he'd had few others.

"I forbid you to die. Do you understand?" Zero bowed slightly, a genuine smile gracing his lips, a true rarity that Leon cherished.

"As you command, My Prince."  
***  
Elfie followed the boys up the ladder and into the hayloft. It was filled with what one would typically expect, but there were obvious signs of struggle. Her heart raced as she moved further into the room; where she found a lavender ribbon and a hank of pale gold hair hidden among the mussed straw.  
Elise had indeed slept here, and had been dragged away. Elfie clenched her jaw and took the ribbon and hair into her hand. She'd need to show this to the prince as soon as she could, but she felt ill at ease. Something was not right, and she felt that whoever had taken her friend was still very much nearby.

"Boys... where is your grandfather?" She asked, turning to look at the children. The boys shook their heads, looking down at the floor.

"He goes out during the day, Milady; tryin' to get food for the village. He won't be back 'til later."

"Tell me all that you know of this area, and those that live here. This is urgent." Conner fumbled for a moment before looking at her, his eyes resolute. She saw no lies there.

"We's simple folk here, Ma'am. We don't hurt nobody, we swear... but folks say there's crones in the swamp. Proper witches that eat naughty younguns. Some o' the old folk bring 'em food to appease 'em. They's the only ones that might know more." Elfie frowned. She knew of court mages and powerful sorceresses, but these sorts of witches only appeared in tales; the things of myth to keep children from playing where they ought not, she'd thought. She gazed down at the hair in her hand, worry writhing away in her gut.

"Thank you for you help, boys. Wait here, and I will see about your reward, I promise." If what the boys had said was true, then Elise could be in greater danger than she'd first thought, but she couldn't let herself believe that they were too late. If she'd failed her best and only friend, then her life would hold no purpose.  
***  
Leon rushed back towards the town, feeling oddly vulnerable. He wasn't fond of the idea that there was a curse slinging maniac on the loose, and he liked the thought that they could have his little sister even less. What would they even want with her? Only the highest nobility had ever seen Elise, and Marx was the only one among them that would be seen by the greater populace with any regularity. They couldn't be a simple bandit if they knew who they had, and if they were, they couldn't possibly know the value of their hostage.

"Prince Leon!" His head snapped up as Elfie came trotting towards him, her armor clanking loudly with each step.

"What is it? Have you found something?"

"I have." She pulled something from her satchel and held it out for him to see. His skin crawled as he looked down at the long strands of blonde hair and the pale ribbon. There was no mistaking to whom it belonged.

"Where did you find it?"

"The hayloft. The stable master's grandsons showed me where she'd rested, but she wasn't there. All I found were the signs of someone being dragged away, and this." Leon nodded and Elfie slipped it back into her pouch, her gaze averted.

"Where is the stable master?"

"Out. The children told me he hunts to feed the village. I believe they are telling the truth, or at least what they believe is the truth... where is Zero?" She asked suddenly, her brows pulling together in concern.

"He remained with our informant. Well, his body; at least. He's dead, killed by a curse."

"So the children may be telling the truth after all. They mentioned some manner of witches that live in the swamp nearby. I'd always thought them to be nothing more than old wive's tales... but perhaps I was wrong." 

"We'll see soon enough. Return to the stable and retrieve the satchel in my saddle bag. When you finish, find the others and meet me back here. We'll return to Zero together."  
***  
"Elfie, I need that lock of hair, if you please." Leon said, holding out his hand. The young dame reached into her satchel once more and passed the pale strands to him. He cleared a space in the dirt at his feet and traced an arcane circle with his finger before digging into the satchel Elfie had brought him. After a moment of digging, he found a pouch of quartz and onyx, a small silver knife, and a bundle of white sage.

"I guess we don't need the stiff anymore, huh?" Zero asked as Leon lit the sage, whispering an incantation to cleanse the energies. The prince shook his head as he sat the burning bundle aside, reaching for the pouch of gems. He continued to murmur as he arranged them into a matrix, and placed the hair in the center. His breath hitched as he unsheathed the knife and closed his palm around the slender blade.

"Ah! Prince Leon, hold a moment! Use blood from one of us instead!" Elfie begged, her thin hands reaching for his. He shook his head and yanked the blade through his clenched fist, letting the blood pool in the center of the circle as the incantation came to a close. He let his eyes slide shut as he focused on his blood's connection to Elise, letting the magic do its work.

It was hazy, but he could see a swamp, a massive tree with roots the size of a grown man's thigh, and a small hut with rushes growing high around it. He could smell burning cedar and rosemary, and see the flickering of foxfire as it danced across the surface of the murky water. In his mind, he could hear indistinct murmuring, like the hushed whispers of old women as they gossiped. It was impossible to tell what was being said, but he was unable to ignore it. It raked across his skull like claws and he struggled to concentrate. The murmuring became louder, and more blurred, turning to a muddy screeching.  
His hands clamped over his ears as the wailing continued, much of it coming from his own mouth as the connection was severed. The last thing he could remember before falling unconscious was the sting of something cutting along his cheek and the smell of damp earth.  
***  
"--eon?!" Leon groaned as his ears rang and the light stung his eyes. He blinked several times, finding his vision gray and wobbly around the edges, like trying to see underwater.

"Prince Leon?!" He could hear the panicked voices around him, but couldn't find the strength to speak. Whatever had severed the connection between himself and Elise had done so with such overwhelming force that it left him drained and useless. It left the same lingering feeling of malaise he'd felt earlier, when examining the corpse.

"Hold on, Master. We're here, just give us a moment. Elfie, support his head while I administer this." Odin instructed, his voice unusually level. It was nice to know he could be serious sometimes.  
He was jostled for only a moment as he was turned onto his back, and propped against hard metal. Her pauldron, perhaps? He winced as gentle, slim fingers worked his jaw open and Odin tipped the bitter concoction into his mouth. He coughed and sputtered as he swallowed, forcing his sore eyes open to glare at the blonde man in front of him. "Sorry, I know it tastes bad. It works like a charm, though. You should feel better soon."

Leon groaned and covered his eyes with his hands, trying to blink away the gritty feeling and regain his bearings.

"What the hell happened? You just started yelling in some gibberish language, and then one of those damned rocks shattered and sent bits flying everywhere. Are you okay?" Zero asked, clearly quite distressed. He had to wonder if anyone else had been hurt when the crystal exploded.

"I'll be fine, just let me rest." He couldn't be sure exactly what had happened. Perhaps he'd been cursed when he got too close to the truth? Perhaps a hungry spirit had come to feed on the energy he was using? "How long was I out?"

"A minute at the most. Did you manage to find anything?" Odin asked, helping him sit upright.

"She's in a swamp. There's a large tree and a mud hut. I lost concentration before I could find anything more substantial, but I believe she is alive and unharmed. Help me stand." Elfie and Odin helped him to his feet and the lady knight steadied him as he wobbled slightly.

"Give me the map." Harold handed the creased map over and Leon forced himself to focus as his vision blurred. There was a small swamp not far from where they were, nowhere near the scope of the Devil's Bog, but it would still be difficult to traverse. "Well... I don't think we'll be getting much more information, let's fetch the horses and be off. We're just wasting time standing here."  
***  
"Yun's going into the swamp to seek the crones?" The elderly stable master asked. He seemed skeptical, but took the stub of charcoal from Zero regardless.

"Yes. If you know how to get to them, I'd appreciate it if you marked it on the map, good man." Leon said. The old man's rheumy eyes flickered over his face for only a moment before he sighed and made a mark on the map.

"I'll do it, but I ain't responsible fer wha' happens, ye hear me? Ye might be messin' with summat you don' understand whelp. Them hags 're olderin' Nohr herself." He handed the charcoal back and wiped his hands on a dirty rag hanging from his pocket. "Yun's watch yerselves around them. Them hags will try their damndest to trick ye." Leon nodded and swung himself into his saddle. He wasn't worried about himself. He and Odin would likely be able to counter most magic they flung their way, but the other three may have trouble.

"Thank you. We'll ensure you're rewarded for your help." The old man scoffed and walked away, headed back into the barn, grumbling about 'younguns' and their 'hot blood.' 

"Master Leon, I'll take the lead." Zero said, holding his hand out for the map. Leon handed it over in silence. He was still reeling a bit from the incident, and not at all well enough to be guiding them through an unfamiliar area. "We'll have hitch the horses once the mud gets too thick. No point in getting the damn nags stuck in the mire." 

"Agreed. Horses are expensive. We can't afford to lose them in the swamp." Leon said, following his servants out of the town's eastern gate. He didn't exactly relish the idea of stomping through a swamp on foot, but it would be easier to pull a person from the mud than a panicked horse. 

"I only hope these "crones" are more genial than these people give them credit for. I'd rather not fight some ancient forest witch if I can help it." Harold sighed. Leon couldn't say that he liked the thought either, but if they wouldn't give him his sister, then he'd have no choice. He would go back empty handed, nor would he fail. He'd never forgive himself if he made his sisters cry.

"Let's move. I want to reach them before nightfall."  
***  
The ride into the swamp had been far more straightforward than they'd expected. It must have been a common practice for the townsfolk to venture in and harvest peat or perhaps they visited the crones often enough for there to be a path. Whatever the case, Leon was glad for the ease they'd enjoyed.  
The mud hut was unassuming, and easy to identify. Hens milled about the yard, pecking at insects in the soggy grass and somewhere, a goat was bleating. All in all, it appeared benign for the abode of monsterous hags that "ate children."

"Ah, so you finally make your way to us, Prince Leon. We were beginning to wonder if you'd stop playing with phantoms and pay us a visit instead." A creaky voice said as an old woman came around the house. She was tiny and bent, her long gray hair hanging in a thick braid down her crooked back. Her mouth was devoid of teeth and her eyes milky, but Leon had the distinct feeling that she was far less blind than she appeared.

"Where is Elise."

"Now, now. The lass is safe, but we must speak first. Come inside. The lot of you will wait out here." Zero and Odin bristled; ready to argue, but Leon held up a hand. They went still, but the tenseness of the situation didn't die.

"What promise do I have that you'll not kill me the moment we're alone?" The hag laughed and shook her head, staring at him through unseeing eyes.

"None. I'm not going to give you promises, boy. We owe you nothing, but we are extending a gift. You will follow whether you wish it or not, for I have said so." Leon grit his teeth and dismounted. "There's a good lad. Follow me, my sisters and I have much to discuss with you." 

The hut was cluttered with a strange variety of knickknacks and rubbish. Animal bones and dried herbs hung from the ceiling and lines of salt graced each doorway. Whether the women were as old as the townsfolk believed was irrelevant, their magic was ancient, and that made them dangerous.  
Two other women sat comfortably on an old sofa, sipping tea. The one on the right was dressed in yellow robes with a comically large brimmed hat of green felt sitting atop her wild chestnut hair. Large spectacles made her look owlish, but he could sense the strong magic within. The woman on the left looked far younger, her ginger hair woven with clary sage and beads made of bone. Her nails were blackened and her fingertips were darkened with ink, but her white dress was immaculate. They hardly looked like ancient, evil witches to him. 

"So we caught the wrong one, but perhaps this is better." The eldest one said, pushing by him. "Sit and have some tea." He did as he was told and accepted a teacup from the ginger haired woman.

"The wrong one?" Leon asked, sipping the minty brew.

"Yes, yes! We were wanting the eldest. When we lured the little one from her bed, we had hoped it would be him to follow, but instead we snared you. No matter, no matter! You will do, oh yes indeed!" The bespectacled one said, her speech choppy.

"Who are you?"

"Who are we? We are whoever people say we are. It doesn't matter, we simply are." 

"Do you not have names?" The eldest one laughed, sipping her tea.

"I am called Hermia. My sister in the hat is called Amalia, and the young one is Nimue. Will that do, young man?" 

"Yes, thank you. Hermia, why did you bring Elise here, and why did you need to speak with my brother?" He asked, eager to understand the strange situation he'd found himself in.

"We three have long stood by as people forgot the old ways. We have watched as kings rose and kingdoms fell. We have seen entire castles crumble into the sea, and as conquerors raced across all of the land, claiming more and more in the name of Nohr. Even your family comes from a conquered people, cowed into submission by Nohrian invaders. Your culture was devoured, your language ripped away, your old magics forgotten. We have grown tired of watching and speaking not." Nimue said, her voice soft like a breeze through branches.

"What then? Do you want revenge for what was lost?" Amalia tutted and adjusted her glasses, peering at him as though he were mad.

"Vengeance is not our goal. No, no, no! We seek only an end to the cycle. A return to balance, to sanity. We have seen visions of things to come, young one. We know the endings, and the beginnings, and are prepared to guide your steps." 

"Speak plainly, then. I'm in no mood for riddles. I've played enough of your games."

"We know not what games you speak of, but we shall tell you. On the next full moon, one among you will make a choice that will shake your very foundation. They will do so in the name of what is right, and what is just. You must have faith in them and know that the ones they will meet will be allies to you when you need them most. Do not turn away their help, and do not doubt. Doubt and fear will be your enemies, more so than any blade wielding soldier. Remember that in the times of chaos to come." Hermia said, patting his knee.

"Why tell me this?"

"Because we think that you and those you know, and those you've yet to meet, are the ones that can bring the change we seek. Have patience, and be brave Prince Leon. He who will be king will need you in the days to come." Leon sighed and drained his cup, placing it gently on the tome covered table.

"This is vague, but I'm not inclined to believe you would lie. Very well. I will keep your warnings in mind. I've but one more question." Nimue poured him more tea, green eyes flickering curiously up at him.

"Speak then." She murmured, leaning back against the sofa's cushions.

"Why did you kill my informant and interrupt my divination?" The three women looked between themselves, confusion on all faces.

"Hermia, did you kill someone?" Amalia asked, huffing indignantly.

"Not that I remember. Did you?"

"Of course not! Nimue, what did you do?"

"T'was not I. I dislike violence." Leon arched an eyebrow. If it wasn't they who had killed Zero's runner, then who else?

"When you arrived here, it was the first time we'd had any dealings with you or those you came in with. Nohr is old, lad. Many have died, and many are still angry. If your spell was interrupted, it was a spirit wishing to manifest, drawing on your power. If a man died, then someone else killed him. This is not uncommon." Hermia sighed, cracking her bony knuckles.

"A powerful curse killed him. You mean to tell me you couldn't have done that?"

"Of course we could. We could curse the king up to his eyeballs if we wished. It would hardly be the first time we ruined his evening, but not this once. We have been quite well behaved." Leon sighed. He was tired, and their vague prattle was beginning to wear on his nerves. He simply wanted to take his sister and return home.

"Very well. I believe you. Where is my sister?" He asked again. Nimue stood and drifted away from the sofa, moving into the next room. When she returned, Elise followed, looking distant and blank eyed, as if in a trance.

"Here. She will not remember any of this journey, and it is best. It will seem as a distant dream. Tell your father she was hexed if you must, but speak not of anything we have said. Tell not your brother, your sisters, your servants." Leon took his sister's hand, relief filling him as he gazed down at her.

"One more thing, before you go." Hermia huffed as she struggled to her feet. She hobbled across the room and collected an ancient tome. She blew away the dust from its cover and felt it briefly before nodding. 

"Here, lad. You may have the talent to get use from this." Leon took the old tome from her gnarled hand and thumbed through it briefly.

"A grimoire?" 

"Yes. It was mine, back when I still needed my eyes to see. I give it to you now, I believe you will need it more than I." Leon tucked the tome under his arm, a small smile creeping onto his lips.

"Thank you. I accept this gift gladly."

"Good. Off with you now. Don't forget what we said."  
***  
"Oh! Leon, you've returned! Where is Ellie? Is she safe?" Camilla fretted, squeezing him tightly enough to bruise.

"She's fine, Sister! We're all fine! Let go, please... you're crushing me." His elder sister sighed and released him, looking him over proudly.

"You did well, little Brother. Marx has been beside himself with worry, so be sure to go see him before you report to Father." She murmured. He dreaded speaking with their father, but he was more than certain he could protect them all. He nodded and let his sister kiss his cheek before he moved away from her, down the hall towards his brother's study. 

It had been a long time since he'd entered the room without being summoned. It hadn't changed, but it's occupant had. Marx slouched behind his desk, snoozing away over a report. Lazward sat nearby in a chair, looking at him tiredly. No doubt he'd been out late philandering again. How his brother put up with such nonsense was beyond him. Leon came around the desk and shook his brother's shoulder, which roused him from his light nap. 

"Leon?" 

"Yes, I'm back. Elise is safe and currently resting in her room." His brother stood quickly, delivering a quick slap to the back of his head before he pulled him firmly against his chest. It had been a long time, but it seemed his brother hadn't lost his touch. He still squeezed far too hard.

"Don't do that again. I've been worried sick about all three of you. Have a little care for my nerves." Leon smiled and allowed his brother to continue fussing and clutch him to his chest. He had missed this.

"I'm sorry Brother. Forgive me?" Marx huffed and held him at arm's length, an exhausted smile on his lips.

"Always. Now, there's business to see to. Let's get Father out of the way so that you can rest. I expect you're tired."  
***  
"You claim that Elise was hexed?" Garon asked, his tone bored. 

"Yes Father. She has no memory of leaving the castle or how she came to be in Rorstein. Elfie and Harold failed no one. They couldn't have protected her from such a thing."

"I see. Have you taken measures to ensure that this does not happen again?" Leon nodded, holding up a small medallion.

"Yes Father. A cedar token soaked in basil infused oil, it should help ward off any suggestions in the future." The king nodded and steepled his fingers.

"Very well. I am in a good mood, so I will believe this story. I am pleased with how quickly you handled the situation, Leon. You have made me proud. Do you have anything to show me to prove the hexer dead?" Leon withdrew the thick, leather bound tome Hermia had gifted him and held it up.

"This was her grimoire. No mage would part with such a thing willingly. Does this suffice, Father?" The king laughed and crossed his legs at the ankles, a delighted smile on his face.

"It does. I grow more and more proud by the moment Leon. You may go. Do as you will with that book. I have no use for it." Leon bowed and turned on his heel, striding quickly out of his Father's study. "One more thing. Don't let Marx soften your edges. He has grown soft. Too soft to shape into anything of use, but you... you are proving to be made of much sterner stuff. Continue as you are, and you will be my heir." Leon's skin crawled at his father's words and their implications.

"Thank you Father." The door closed behind him with a quiet 'snap,' and he rushed down the hall, eager to get away from the wicked man on the other side. Let him think he was a willing pawn. It would be all the easier for him to sink a dagger into his back.


	5. First Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kamui finds herself facing off against Samael and his band of marauders, hoping to bring her journey to a swift end. With the help of the Wendell siblings, Gunter and Cyrus, she gains a new ally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some mentions of death, blood, and critical injuries.
> 
> I'm looking for a beta reader to cut down on typos and continuity errors, let me know if you're interested.

Kamui woke with a groan as light filtered through the curtains. It was odd not to be in the palace's darkness, but she couldn't say she was complaining. This sort of morning made her miss the winter palace and its arched cathedral windows and vaulted ceilings. With a sigh, she uprooted herself from the mattress, her desire to linger dying when she thought of her family waiting in worry. Anne would likely be coming to check up on her soon, she was sure. She'd rather be dressed and ready than make them wait.

She dressed in a rush, uncaring if her clothes looked tidy. It wouldn't matter very soon. She pinned up her hair up into a functional bun, tucking her bangs back to keep them from falling into her eyes. If she died today, it would not be because her hair fell into her eyes.

Rifling through her pack, she dug out Marx's cravat. It was crumpled and a bit musty from being jammed in her satchel for so long, but his scent still clung to it. In a moment of sentimentality, she tied it around her neck in a quick coachman's knot, tucking it neatly into her brigandine. From there, she could still smell it; and the warmth made her feel oddly secure, despite the silk's flimsiness.

Without warning, the door swung open and Anne stepped through without so much as a word. At the palace, no one save her sisters would think to do such a thing, and even Elise usually had better manners. It seemed Anne was in no mood for such a thing today.

"Well good morning to you too, Anne. You look ready to set out." The other woman smiled tiredly, closing the door behind her.

"I'm glad to see you're almost ready the faster we... is that a cravat?" She asked, cocking an eyebrow as she stared at the article around her neck.

"Yes, why?" Anne shook her head, with a shrug.

"No reason, I suppose I'm just not used to seeing a woman wear a man's accessory. Is it a favor from a lover?" Kamui sputtered, shaking her head quickly.

" **No**! Don't be silly, Anne. It's Marx's. It serves as a promise that I'll return safely." Anne nodded in understanding, smiling gently.

"I see that now. It suits you, you should wear one more often." Kamui snorted and seated herself on the edge of the bed, shoving her feet into her boots with a bit more force than necessary. "Do you need help with your armor?"

"No, but it would make it go faster. So... if you don't mind?" Anne nodded and moved towards her, picking up her cuisses.

"I'm ready to support the two of you, but I'm not much use in a brawl, I'll be honest." She said, glancing up from her work. Kamui nodded silently. She'd noted the court sword her friend carried, its pommel bore the church's signet, marking her a trained healer.

"I understand. Your healing will be most useful."

"I can provide cover with my magic as well, but I'd appreciate it if you stopped anyone before they got too close. This sword is a last resort." Kamui hummed as she checked the fit of her couter before moving on to her cuirass.

"I'll do what I can. I'm sure between myself and Andrew we should be able to keep you relatively safe." Anne looked up from her task once again before nodding, her eyes swimming with nervousness.

"I do wish we had more help. Three people will have considerable difficulty against them, but I believe we may be able to manage if we play this smart. Andrew should be returning from his reconnaissance soon. For now, let's eat ourselves some breakfast and hope that it won't come to that."

***

Kamui picked absently at the lumpy porridge in her bowl. Her nerves kept her from having much appetite, especially for porridge. She _detested_ porridge. It had all the appeal and flavor of wet sawdust, but she didn't want to complain. It would stick with her throughout the morning, if nothing else.

Across the table, she could see Anne was looking at hers with almost as much contempt. It seemed they shared a distaste for it. They both shoveled it into their mouths quickly, eager to have it over with. They didn't have the time to sit around and pout over the tastelessness of their breakfasts, after all.

"My parents think Andrew and I are visiting Madame Moitessier in Kimbley. They won't be expecting us home until tomorrow evening at least." Anne said.

"And if they contact this woman and ask if you were there?" Anne snorted and took a grudging bite of her breakfast.

"She'd stick to the story. The Madame dislikes Mother and Father. She was a knight from Chevalier who came here after her lord husband passed away. She spent time as a hedge knight before she was taken in by my father. Those were better days for my family."

"What happened? She clearly left your family's service." Knights didn't usually abandon their charges, especially so abruptly.

"I'm not entirely sure. She was our caretaker growing up, and taught us everything we know about tactics and battle. We grew up on stories of her exploits... but she had a falling out with my parents. The way I heard it, Father made some... inappropriate advances on her and she packed her bags and left without a word. She was a feisty one, and never minced words. You'd like her, I think."

"She sounds wonderful. I'd like to meet her one day." Anne grinned, scraping the last bit of her porridge from the bowl.

"We'll make it a point to introduce you soon. Besides... she's a valuable source of information. She made many important contacts during her time in our courts and charmed more than her share of nobles. With her influence, we may be able to sway a few of the more moderate houses."

It was surreal to be discussing the very real possibility of a rebellion at the Wendell's breakfast table, but here she was. They still needed a lot more backers, and more pull in the underground, but if they could sway Samael and convince him to join their cause, they'd be on their way.

"Are we ready? The sooner we get moving, the better." Kamui nodded and followed her friend out the servant's entrance and into the yard, moving quickly towards the stables. "Marcus should already have our horses ready. I just hope Andrew returns _before_ we depart. I hope nothing's... happened."

Marcus stood at the gate with Arlo and Anne's chestnut rouncey saddled and ready, his face tense.

"Marcus? What's happened?" He shook his head, leaning in slightly.

"Nothin', yet. I jus' don't much care fer the idea of you headin' out there with jus' the three of 'ya. I know it ain't my place, but we've been knowin' each other since we was kids. Jus' be careful, yeah?" Anne smiled warmly, and Kamui looked away to give them privacy. Anne didn't have to tell her for her to know that there was something between herself and Marcus. She'd hidden love too long not to see it in another."Don't fret, Marcus. We'll be back before you know it, I promise. _Oh_! Andrew!" The flapping of wings heralded the third member of their ragtag party's arrival. As his wyvern landed, the ground beneath them rumbled and dust drifted lazily through the air, tickling Kamui's nose.

"I'm glad I caught you. I was afraid we'd have to meet on the road somewhere." He said, stretching his arms overhead.

"How does it look out there?" Kamui asked, swinging herself into her saddle.

"Not bad, to be honest. They're holed up in an old waycastle to the northeast. We ought to be able to reach it by noon. Their fortifications are simple, and won't hold against us for long. From what I saw, our biggest worry will be Samael himself. He's hell with a bow, I've heard; so I'll leave him to you. More than that, though... I saw something quite **interesting**. There was a Royal Knight camped about forty minutes down the road between us and them. Elderly fellow, with a younger man with him." Kamui paused briefly, her hand flying to the cravat at her throat.

" _Gunter_. Marx came through for me after all."

" **The** General Gunter? By the gods, this is _fantastic_ news! With a seasoned heavy cavalry man on our side, we may just be able to do this. Any idea who the other man is?" Anne asked, her eyes shining.

"Andrew? Did you get a look at him?"

"Mm. Not really, same black armor as any Nohrian knight. Silver hair." Kamui hummed in thought. She only knew one knight with silver hair that she could remember, but last she knew Cyrus was stationed on the Chevalier-Nohr border.

"I'm not certain, but it may be a friend of mine. Why he's here, I don't know; and I'll not complain."

"Indeed. The more the merrier. Let's get a move on; I'd hate to have them move on ahead of us. Kamui, dear... remind me to send a gift basket to the Prince. He could have only made me happier if he'd brought his own strength as well." Andrew chuckled and looked up at the sky before urging the beast beneath him to take flight once more.

"Marcus, you know the story." Andrew called down before urging his mount towards the field. Marcus nodded, and turned away after one more longing look in Anne's direction.

"Take care of 'em, Lady Kamui. They been like family to me." Marcus said quietly. Kamui knew that feeling all too well. She couldn't blame him for his worry.

"Of course, Marcus. I'll see to it that nothing happens to them." With a final wave, they were off, moving quickly down the sloping drive and into the countryside. Andrew flew overhead, still just within shouting distance as he scoured the way ahead.

She would be a better scout than he, were she to take flight. The sky was clear and beautiful that day, uncommon for Nohrian springs. She could feel her dragonstone pressing against her chest from inside its velour pouch, the power radiating from within tingling across her skin, beckoning her to summon her will and use it; but she pushed the desire aside. While it was hardly a secret among Nohr's upper houses that she was a shapeshifter, it made others uneasy. She'd only use it if the worst came to pass. 

She turned her thoughts to Gunter and the companion he rode with instead. She could scarcely think of a better person Marx could have sent save himself or Camilla. With two more heavily armored, skilled knights; they would have little trouble breaking through the feeble defenses Andrew had described, and unless they had well armored, specialized halberdiers or pikemen, the greatest danger came from archers. A well aimed shot could find a chink in his armor and pierce his neck, or even slip between the slats in his visor and find an eye. She would have to mind herself.

"May I see the map? I want to have an idea of what I'll be walking into." Kamui asked, urging Arlo forward. Anne rooted in her haversack and presented her with a neatly folded map.

"I've marked it's location, you only need to look for it. I have to say I don't quite know what to expect. Andrew is only able to tell us so much. Hopefully the General will know more."

"I'm sure he will, but he'll have my hide if I tell him I've not even glanced at a map and tried to piece something together." She said, scanning the map critically. The elevation rose and fell in odd increments by several tenths of a degree here and there. "This is a karst rich area, it seems. Was there a mine around there?" Kamui asked.

"Yes. They used to mine limestone, I believe. It's been abandoned for around four years, I think... since a cave in killed a group of miners. If I am to believe the gossip; there was also a saltpeter operation in the area."

"...Is the equipment to harvest it still there? Was it only for harvesting or did they produce black powder?" Dread settled in the pit of her stomach as she searched the map for the mine Anne had mentioned. It was close to the waycastle, though not so close that they could walk. They'd need mules and carts to get anything to and from, but a short ride on horseback would let them work there for a day and head back.

"I see your concern, but that was many years ago. I doubt it's got enough left to be worth the effort. It's no longer marked on newer maps like that one."

" _Still_... it may be best to make note of it. I doubt they have the means to refine it, but I'd prefer to be extra cautious and keep my limbs attached." Anne chuckled and inclined her head slightly in agreement, tucking the map away.

"We'll discuss it with the general later. Perhaps he can put those fears to rest."

***

"Their camp is just ahead! They'll be able to see us when we round this next bend!" Andrew called from above. Kamui felt herself relax in the saddle. Seeing Gunter would make her feel braver, and the thought of going into this mostly blind would be a lot less horrifying.

She urged Arlo onward, and he snorted as he broke into a brisk trot. Anne followed suit and soon, canvas tents came into view. There was no fire, so they were trying hard not to draw attention to themselves, but she could smell oiled steel and tobacco from here.

" _Gunter_!" Kamui called out and sure enough, a figure clad in heavy ebony armor came around the other side of the tent to peer in her direction. He waited until she drew closer to greet her; his wizened face serious, but relieved.

"It's good to see you unharmed Little Dove. I had begun to fear I'd missed you. Who do you ride with today? I fear I don't recognize your companions." He said, his shrewd eyes landing momentarily on Anne before glancing up at Andrew, who was circling to find a decent place to land.

"Gunter, this is Anne and Andrew Wendell. They've agreed to lend me their aid." If she hadn't know the old knight for as long as she had, she'd not have noticed his surprise.

"I **see**. That is... kind of them. Kamui. We have much to discuss and not much time to do so, come." He said, extending his hand to help her dismount. She took it gladly, hugging him tightly as soon as her feet touched ground. He chuckled softly and lead her towards the camp where another man was currently packing up.

"Cyrus! We've got company, look lively." Her old friend stood and grinned at her green eyes shining with mirth. He'd grown taller in his absence.

"Good to see you again, Kamui. It's been a few years. How have you been?"

"Well enough, I suppose. Weren't you stationed elsewhere? What are you doing here?"

"I was home to visit my parents. General Gunter scooped my up for this little outing on his way here." Gunter cleared his throat briskly, amusement flickering across his aged face briefly.

"Talk later, you two. We've got work to do. Now. Kamui, have you taken a lot at the map?" She nodded and came forward.

"Yes. The elevation might be a problem for the horses, but I doubt you don't already know that. My concern lies a little further to the north. There's an--"

"Old quarry and a disused saltpeter mine, yes. I was hoping you'd catch that. Good girl. We need to go into this with the assumption that they've managed to scrape together some sort of grenade cache, though I doubt it. You, boy!" Andrew jerked to attention as he joined them, clearly unused to being spoken to so brusquely.

"Your mount can fly, you get to see if they've got explosives. Keep your distance, but don't stray too far. Try to goad them into throwing a grenade or petrol bomb at you." Andrew nodded, his mouth drawn into a thin line. It was a dangerous task, but less so for one with wings to get away. "Lass, I see a church issued sword at your side. You know what your role is, I've no need to tell you... but I would like to know what equipment you've got."

"Certainly, General. With me I carry two tomes, a two staves, and what I hope will be enough salve and bandages to patch up minor wounds." She said, gesturing to the satchel strapped to her saddle. Gunter nodded, taking note of the staves she'd indicated.

"Very well. I'll leave you to do your job, Milady. Kamui. I dislike the idea, but you will be best following myself and Cyrus on the charge. Leave Arlo tied to a tree to graze, you may ride with me. You are at your best when you can get close, so close the distance and tear them down. If we can kill or incapacitate their leader, the rest will most likely scatter."

"I'd prefer it if we can keep him alive. He may prove _useful_ to us all later." Anne said, picking imaginary lint from her sleeve. Gunter sized her up, clearly trying to understand her meaning.

"We shall try, but if he gives up no option, he will have to die. I didn't ride out from the capital just to have us all end up dead."

"Duly noted. General, what do you know of the area ahead?"

"I know that it is rocky, mountainous and not at all accommodating for horses; but we will make do. I've not seen their stronghold since they took it, but I do know that it is just a shadow of its former self. Why? Do you have information, lass?" Anne nodded at Andrew who cleared his throat.

"Yes, I do. I did a little scouting early this morning. They've only got a handful of men from what I've seen. Thirty or forty at the most. Most of them are wearing what seem to be bits and pieces of armor they managed to parse together from those they've ambushed, but I can't say exactly how well it'll hold up against our steel. Their fortifications are simple, mostly wooden planks or sharpened pikes; and most of the men seem to be poorly trained melee fighters. Samael himself is our biggest concern. I've heard he's quite good with a longbow."

"We'll have to manage. Mind yourself out there, boy. I know of Samael, and he's half again as good as you've heard." Cyrus came forward, all business now that the excitement of seeing his old friend was over.

"General, the tents are packed and the horses saddled. We may leave the moment we are ready." Gunter nodded, looking over the young people arranged before him once more.

"I think we're about as ready as we can be until we actually see it. Expect a hard fight, but I believe we can make it. We just need to work together." When he said it, Kamui had no doubt that it was true. As they mounted their horses, Anne came up beside Kamui, her nerves clearly beginning to get the best of her.

"General, you say you know of Samael. Have the two of you met?" Gunter glanced at her briefly, his gnarled face set in a firm frown.

"Briefly years ago. He was just a young lad in those days, but eager to serve. He and his platoon of militia men were attached to my regiment for a battle. They were to fire into the enemy charge while we stood our ground at the top of a hill. He and his archers turned it into a slaughter."

"Do you think he'll remember you?" She asked, fidgeting in her saddle.

"I don't doubt he will. We're both **much** older now, but I don't think he's forgotten if I haven't."

"What sort of man is he, Gunter?" Kamui quizzed, hopeful that he could be reasoned with.

"I can't say really, Little Dove. I knew him as a half trained soldier, not a man. He listened to orders, respected his commanders, and was a skilled archer. He seemed amiable enough, but that means little."

Anne seemed as disappointed as she felt, but they let it rest. They would know soon enough what he was capable of and would simply have to do what they could.

"Don't get any foolish ideas in that head of yours, lass. I know you don't want to kill if you don't have to, but it's them or us. Keep that in mind."

***

The ruined fortress rose above them from atop the hill, imposing even in its age. They were still far enough away to not have been met with guards or sentries, but Gunter called for them to halt, looking meaningfully at Kamui.

"Leave Arlo here, Kamui. He'll not be more than a hindrance." He said, using that same firm, but oddly gentle tone she'd grown so used to. She did as she was told, leaving enough slack in Arlo's lead to allow for grazing. "Good. Now come here. You'll ride with me until we get there."

She settled awkwardly behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist, wincing when she picked up the sound of metal scraping metal. Her nerves settled slightly she pressed her ear to his back and heard the thrumming of his heart through steel.

"Cyrus, protect Lady Wendell, at least until we engage."

"Yes, General." Anne allowed Cyrus to take up a position ahead of her. Andrew looked up at the sky, frowning as the wind shifted.

"I smell smoke. We may be catching them at meal time. This may be the best time to make our move." He said, leaning back slightly in his saddle.

"I agree. We may be lucky enough to catch them with their trousers down. How good are you at throwing javelins?" Gunter asked, indicating the bundle of spears strapped to his wyvern's saddle.

"Well enough." Gunter chuckled, nodding his approval. Kamui had learned over the years that throwing javelins was something of a joke among those who studied lance. They did little damage to enemies in full plate, usually only resulting in bruises except for the rare times a soldier managed to get enough momentum behind the throw, and they were inaccurate. She doubted Andrew intended to use them unless he had no choice.

"Very well. Let us be off. I'd rather be done with this and on our way back to the palace before dark."

Arlo nickered as they rode away, as if wishing them luck, and Kamui thanked him silently before tucking her nose into the cravat tied at her neck. The scent was fading, but she could still smell it. It was soothing, reassuring, and gave her more courage than the sword at her side ever could.

***

There was a suspicious lack of guards as they drew closer. Gunter stiffened in the saddle in front of her as they hastened their approach. While she smelled humans all around, the lack of their presence was unnerving. Kamui strained her ears, listening for some signs of life above the din of clanking armor and trampling hooves.

She found it in the whistling of an arrow, as it went streaking past her right cheek to clang off of Cyrus' shield.

"Looks like they're not in the mood for talk." Her friend said, ready to draw his weapon.

"That was a warning, and one we _unfortunately_ must ignore. Kamui, prepare to dismount the moment we clear this line of trees." Gunter instructed, spurring his mount onward. They burst into a gallop, and above them, Andrew's wyvern shrieked as it dove downward so that its charge could strike.

As they broke the treeline, she did as she was told and launched herself from the saddle as Gunter slowed momentarily, bringing his axe down on the nearest man's head. Kamui ignored the sickening crunch as his skull gave way and hurled herself at the archer just up the hill. He dropped his bow and reached for a knife instead, adopting a stance she'd commonly seen Zero use in sparring.

She didn't have much experience against knives, but he was lightly armored and rattled. He was young, probably only Leon's age; and though this was her first real fight, he was clearly less seasoned than she.

Bating him was easy enough. As he lunged, she stepped back and parried; searching for an opening. Stepping quickly to his left, she half-sworded her blade and jabbed as he raised his arm, the strike finding its mark between his first two ribs.

The tip of her blade slid easily through the leather jerkin he wore and sank into the flesh beneath. He let out a strangled scream and stumbled backward, grasping his wound, blood oozing out from between his unprotected fingers. While she knew it would be kinder to end him then, she knew he'd not be able to draw a bow in his condition. She had more pressing concerns as a burly axe fighter came barreling down the hill towards her.

Around her were the sounds of screams, flesh tearing, bones breaking, and steel clanging against steel, but she felt oddly calm. She felt no guilt for the people she hurt, and paid little heed to the nicks, cuts and bruises she gained. It was as she'd always been told. Battle was not the place for conscience. You survived on a battlefield. You didn't make statements, you didn't make small talk, you didn't think. You reacted.

She looked up as her current opponent gurgled out his last breath, charred by a spell Anne had flung his way. At the crest of the hill, she could see Gunter and Cyrus breaking through barricades, tearing through the half rotted planks like paper. Those that tried to stop them were cut down by Andrew, or engulfed in flames as Anne slung spells from her place behind a damaged wall.

It was going far too well. Were these men and women truly all Samael had managed to scrape together? These people were nothing but farm hands and bar maids, just poor and angry. Their deaths were pointless and would not be remembered, just drops in an overflowing bucket.

"Kamui, we're almost there! Let's keep moving." Anne called. Kamui nodded and charged forward, following in the men's wake. The opposition had cleared significantly, those that still survived withdrawing into the keep, clearly trying to hold the gate. Kamui hastened her charge, coming to a stop just behind Cyrus.

Finally at the top of the hill, just outside the old keep's main gate, Kamui got a good look at the men on the wall. Why hadn't they been firing? There were a good handful of archers there, and who she assumed was Samael himself stood in the center; longbow resting against his thigh.

"General Gunter. It's been a **very** long time. To what do I owe the pleasure? You should have written, I would have been a more receptive host. Instead you charge my keep like an angry bull and kill my men." Gunter scoffed and put himself between the archer and Kamui, his grip still tight on his weapon.

"Please, we're both too old to pretend we don't know how this works. Just come out so that we can get this over with. You've cornered yourself in there, and this gate won't hold."

"Perhaps I have, and perhaps it won't... but it is as you say. This is a dance we both know well. If I am to die, I will die because I fought. Not because I **didn't**." Despite Gunter's best effort, Kamui stepped around him, sheathing her blade as she went. She had a chance to end this, here and now and no others needed to die.

"Good sir, I am Princess Kamui, ward of King Garon. On my honor, I swear to you that if you put aside your weapons and come out, no one else need be harmed."

"You're _daft_ , girl. Even if I believed you, your honor means shit to me. Any who are aligned with the King have none to begin with." Her temper threatened to flare, but she gritted her teeth and choked it down.

"We are discussing us, not the King. Unlike him, I am willing to make a deal. Besides. If you'd **truly** wanted to fight, you and your archers would have been trying to kill us the moment we cleared the trees." Her quarry paused momentarily, frowning.

"Cute, girl. What are you proposing?"

"The King wanted you dead. I propose a different route. Come down and we shall talk. You have my word." She said, dropping her sheathed sword to the ground. Samael laughed, shaking his head.

Her dragonstone and instincts reacted quicker than he did, and she found herself almost surprised as his arrow clattered off of the steel hard ridge of her spine. " _That was **unwise**_." She cautioned, voice menacing as it seemed to echo around them.

Things looked different through these eyes. Colors that she normally couldn't see swirled around her, and she could see him standing there in minute detail. If her mouth were able, she'd smile at the horrified look on his gnarled face. Even from this distance, she could hear his heart pounding, but his wasn't the only one. No one was comfortable with her like this, save Gunter. She could hear him beside her, calm as could be, and it kept her calm as well. It was all that kept her from charging through the gate and tearing Samael's limbs from his body.

" _I'm not asking again. Come out_."

***

"You wish for me to give you a token for the King?" Samael asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Kamui nodded, placing her hands on the table between them.

"Yes. I need something of yours, something you'd not otherwise part with. I will try to ensure it will be returned later, but I can't promise you anything."

"Why keep me alive? My men are untrained, and me alone wouldn't have stood a chance against you. You could have killed me and been done with it." Anne cleared her throat and folded her hands primly before her, her lips pulled into a wry smile.

"Simply put, you're more useful to everyone alive." He looked at her then, a sneer on his face.

" _Oh_? How could I assist you, _Lady_ Wendell?" Anne ignored his tone and answered, her sweet voice oddly cutting.

"Had we killed you, you'd be a martyr, but one with no power. The people may have become even more embittered, but no stronger. _Alive_ ; however, you could be a leader. The people could rally behind you, and eventually, they could rebel. I have access to information, I could point you to supply caches, I could help you set up safe houses. You would no longer need to live in a run down keep, sleeping among spiders and rat droppings. All we ask is for a small token of yours, and for you to lay low for now."

"Why do this? All of you here today come from places of privilege, save the General. The way it is now works out well for you." Kamui snorted and crossed her legs, swiping a loose strand of hair out of her eyes.

"Not all of us are blind to what happens in this country. Some of us see it and know that it cannot go on, for uncountable reasons. We may be looking down, but we also comprehend what we see. I know I would like to lessen the gap between us all." She said. Samael hummed in response, twisting a simple gold band around his finger.

"I see. I forget how differently young people can think. I used to be like that as well." He sighed and pulled the ring from his finger, a meaningful look in his eyes. "Take this to the King, then. Tell him I'm dead and will trouble the roads no longer. It will suffice, I'm sure."

"Are you _certain_ you wish to part with your wedding band? I did say I'd try to have it returned, but I can make no--"

"I'm certain. She wouldn't want me to hold onto it out of sentimentality when there's something more at stake." Kamui nodded and tucked the ring away, mindfully wrapping it inside a handkerchief.

"What is your answer, Samael? Will you work with us?" Anne asked, her voice tense. He looked at the table in silence a moment, his face suddenly reflecting his age.

"I'll think on it. How can I contact you?"

"Send word to Madame Maxime in Fellscheid. She will ensure I get your message." Samael's eyebrows rose, an amused grin on his face.

"Well... I can't say I was expecting **that** answer. Very well. I'll deliver my answer by the week's end. Give me until then." Anne nodded and rose to her feet, and the other two followed suit. It was getting late in the afternoon now. Kamui had a long ride ahead of her. Her steps halted as a sudden thought struck her.

"By the way, Samael... why didn't you make use of the saltpeter mine you've got nearby?" Kamui asked, suddenly.

"It's been pretty much cleaned out, I looked at it when we first set up here. What little is left would have to be mined, and I'm not a miner. It wasn't worth the effort." He said, holding the door open for them.

"I see. I really **was** worried about nothing, I suppose." She sighed, shrugging.

"Besides that, I don't really think I'd have trusted this lot with anything that could do that much damage. Most of them hardly knew the pommel of a sword from the pointy end, and the ones that did still weren't trained to fight. Shit blowing up around them would have just made them all the more ineffective."

"You don't seem too upset about the ones that died." Anne sniped, arching an eyebrow quizzically.

"Can't get too attached to people who traded pickaxes or plows for swords, lass. They're the first ones to enter the battlefield, and most of them leave it on the cart. You'd best learn that now if you're earnest about this. Ask that old codger outside and he'll tell you the same thing. Some of them, I couldn't even tell you their names. I didn't let them tell me until they survived a raid or two."

Kamui winced, but understood the reasoning. It would be impractical to get to know someone who could die so soon after meeting them. It wasn't a tactic she would want to employ, but she could see the value in it. It was a reality that she could soon be facing, regardless whether things went Garon's way or hers.

***

"I'll keep in touch with you through my retainer Joker. He's trustworthy." Kamui said, stretching her arms out before her. The bed she and Anne had shared the night before had been stiff, but better than the ground, she supposed.

"Good. I'll be seeing you in just a few days, anyway. The King's salon is in less than a week now. Hopefully I'll have good news from Samael, and from my contact in Hoshido. Speaking of which... the excitement of the time kept me from really mentioning it... I didn't know you were..."

"I'm not surprised. It's not common knowledge, unlike my... _other_ heritage." She said, indicating her ears. Anne hummed and crossed her arms, glancing around to ensure the others were still out of earshot.

"It **does** open some doors, and make your case to see the Queen stronger, but it may also cause some problems. You do know this, yes? They may not want to let you return." Kamui nodded. She was aware that it was a gamble either way. Garon would be livid, perhaps even label her a traitor, and her true family would most likely want retribution as well.

"Do we have any other choice?" Anne sighed, looking careworn despite her youth.

"No. I don't suppose we do. What will you do if they want to keep you there?" Kamui shook her head. She couldn't say, really. It wasn't high on her list of concerns at the moment.

"Kamui, let's be going. Cyrus and I will escort you until the capital comes in sight. Then, we'll have to separate."

"We'll think of all this later, Anne. Be careful, and thank you for everything." She said, hugging the other woman tightly. "I'll see you soon."

***

Her back ached and the way Camilla was squeezing her wasn't helping matters. Her whole body was sore, her head was starting to ache, and Elise's excited chirping was adding to it. Leon was quiet, but she could feel him lurking nearby, ready to jump on her the moment Camilla let her go. If she ever did. This would probably be how she died. Crushed to death by her beloved sister's steel grip.

The doors to the parlor opened and silence fell upon them. Camilla released her and she turned, only to be enveloped in strong arms and a delightfully familiar scent.

"Welcome home, Little Dove." He sounded tired. Too tired, as though he'd not slept since she left. If she knew him, he probably hadn't. "Father is waiting for you in his office. I'll be there with you, don't fear. After that, I want you to get some rest." She pulled back, and he let her. Her heart ached as she studied his face.

His skin was sallow and his eyes were bruised and dull from nights of poor sleep. While every hair was perfectly in place, it seemed to hang limply. It was unacceptable.

"It seems I'm not the only one in need of rest. I'm not averse to retiring to my chambers for a nap, but you need to do the same. **All** of you do." She said, casting a glance around. Elise lit up immediately, her violet eyes shining with joy.

"Let's all nap together once you're done! Big brother! Your bed is biggest!" She said, tugging on Marx's sleeve. He glanced down at Kamui, uncertainty in his eyes. She smiled and nodded. This would be good for all of them. It'd been a long time since they'd all slept together in such close quarters, and she knew she missed it.

"I think that's a **fantastic** idea, Ellie. Darling, meet me in your chambers once you're finished. We'll get you cleaned up and changed into something more comfortable. We'll be there soon thereafter, Brother dear. Leave the door unlocked!" Marx looked bewildered as the rest of them scattered. She smiled up at him, squeezing his hand.

"Don't look so put out, Marx. It won't be so bad."

"We'll see about that. We're all a bit _bigger_ than we used to be. On top of it all, the lot of you are **horrid** bedfellows. Elise kicks, Camilla throws herself across the bed like a log, Leon tosses and turns, and you cling like baby opossum to its mother." He complained, offering her his arm. She giggled and took it gladly, leaning against him. "What was it like out there?"

"Overgrown and rocky. We found him holed up in a disused waycastle with around forty other men. It was... not an experience I'd like to have again. Most of his men were young and unskilled." Marx hummed, sorrow in his eyes.

"I'm sorry you had to go through this. I'll be sure to make it up to you." She laughed, shaking her head sadly.

"You always blame yourself." She said, squeezing his hand. Their conversation faded away as they came to a halt outside the king's private study. Kamui took a steadying breath as she released Marx's arm and knocked on the door.

"Enter." They did as they were told, and Marx held the door open for her as she stepped through, coming to stop just on the other side of the desk. Marx stood close behind to her right. "So you've returned. Excellent, you've done well. Duke Wendell spoke highly of you, Kamui. He praised your manners and kindness. Thank you for behaving yourself." She bit back a snarky reply and instead forced a smile.

"Of course, Sire. I'd never want to shame you." She said, the sweetness in her tone nearly making her gag.

"I'm sure. Now then. Have you brought proof of your success to me?" She nodded and reached into her satchel, withdrawing her handkerchief. Garon watched stoically as she placed the gold ring on the desk. He slipped on his spectacles and drew the item close, holding it between his fingers.

"I believe it to be his wedding ring, or perhaps a treasure he's kept for many years. It's quite worn, and it seemed important to him." She explained. Garon nodded and slid the ring back towards her, returning his eye glasses to his desk.

"This will suffice. You may keep it as a memento to your first successful battle. May it not be the last. The two of you may go."

***

"There. Clean at last. Now don't you feel better?" Camilla asked, resting her chin atop her head. Kamui hummed and leaned back against her sister, her exhaustion finally taking hold of her. Her sister chuckled and lead her to her vanity, running a comb through her wet hair.

"The king seemed preoccupied. He hardly even seemed to care about anything I said... and he was uncommonly kind. What's happened since I've been gone?" Camilla sighed, plaiting her hair as she gathered her thoughts. "Camilla?"

"We... had a bit of a _scare_ two days ago. Ellie was... hexed and wandered away, all the way to Rorstein." Kamui sat up a bit straighter in her chair, more awake now.

"By whom? What on earth--"

"She's fine. Leon retrieved her and says he dealt with those responsible, but I feel as though there is something he didn't tell me... and what he did tell me troubles me deeply. We need to take care of each other now more than ever." Camilla said, placing her hands on either of Kamui's shoulders.

"What do you mean?" Her sister sighed, meeting her eyes in the mirror.

"Father seems to be favoring Leon as his successor. His wording... did not bode well." Icy dread settled in the pit of her stomach as she caught her sister's meaning.

"You mean... he may be thinking of having Marx culled?"

"Not quite... but I do think he's thinking of giving him a " _hero's_ " death in this war. Leon shares that belief as well." Kamui felt her dread turn to rage. Camilla noticed the shift in her mood and shushed her, pulling her tightly against her bosom. "Calm down, Darling. Marx has been made aware, and you know I will do anything to protect all of you. Nothing will happen to him."

Kamui took several calming breaths and let Camilla pull her to her feet to embrace her once more. Her angry shaking subsided as she held tightly to Camilla's waist, listening to her sister's gentle breathing. 

"Come, now that you've calmed down. Let's go take a nap, we'll talk more about these unpleasant things when we've all rested."

***

Marx sighed as he was squished between Elise and Kamui, both girls nearly squeezing the air from his lungs. Kamui was tucked beneath his chin, her small hands twisted into his shirt, her breath puffing softly against his throat. Camilla slept soundly on the other side of her, one arm thrown over Kamui's waist, the other curled against her own face. He could hear Leon breathing softly behind Elise, grunting every so often as he tried to find a more comfortable position. He'd knew wake with the four of them thrown over him like he used to. He had no illusions that they'd grown out of it.  


He rolled his eyes, smiling in spite of it all. He was overly warm, crowded, and Elise kept kneeing him in the thigh, but he was happy. He'd missed them. He buried his mouth and nose into Kamui's damp hair, closing his eyes contentedly. He was far too tired to tell himself that he shouldn't be stroking her cheek so reverently, or holding her so closely. He would worry about it later, when he was alone again. For now, he'd simply let it be and let the sweet smell of Kamui's hair and his family's sleeping breaths lull him to sleep.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for my long absence. I feel like I needed to put this note here for current and future readers; this fic hasn't been abandoned. I'm still planning on finishing it, I've just fallen in a bit of a slump and need to wait for it to blow over. I'm hoping that I'll be in more of a writing mood once I finish playing Conquest. That should give me some shippy feelings; at least I hope it does. Anyway, I'm really thankful that you're all reading and enjoying it and I'm grateful for your patience, you guys are great. I hope you're all having a great day, and if you aren't; I hope it gets better.


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